


Cor Aut Mors (Heart or Death)

by LighthouseHunter101



Category: The Sentinel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LighthouseHunter101/pseuds/LighthouseHunter101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Sentinel story set within the ancient Roman Empire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cor Aut Mors (Heart or Death)

PROLOGUS

140AD near Rome

He could hear loud rasping breathing and was shocked to realise it was his own. He focused on keeping his legs moving and running, he had to get as far away as he could. His ankle was throbbing from when he had turned it in an unseen hole, but he ignored it. The pain was inconsequential to what he faced if they caught him. He shuddered as he thought about the punishment that awaited him if he failed.

He couldn’t fail.

Determinedly he kept up his steady pace as he ran through the olive trees of a forest outside of Rome. His heart hammered in his chest as the slave forced his tired body to keep moving forever forward. His mind was still working as he decided what to do. He knew he needed to find a river so he could mask his scent and throw off the pursuing dogs. 

He stopped a moment to catch his breath and craned his hearing; he could hear them. They were far in the distance but they were there. The terrifying sound of dogs baying in the distance: The same dogs that were after him. He had mistimed his escape and they had discovered he was missing too soon.

The slave couldn’t go back, couldn’t live like that anymore. It wasn’t just the servility; he’d been born a slave and he was used to that way of life, and it was the only life he had ever known. It wasn’t the hard work or the senseless beatings; his back was striped by the scars of lash marks, for not pleasing his master. It was more than that, because he knew if he stayed with his master, he knew that one day he would die. Either his master would kill him or he would kill himself. Life was unbearable and not worth living. That was why he was running now; it was worth the chance of freedom. He might have to face a gruesome death if his master caught him, that was the risk he was taking.

The slave ran on and on. He had long since past exhaustion but still he ran, barely aware of his surroundings. His drive to be free forcing every extra step he managed to take. Every step he made took him that bit further from that life of servitude and towards a new free life.

Onwards he pushed himself, until he finally reached the end of his endurance. The slave couldn’t hear the dogs any longer. Maybe he had run far enough. He wanted to keep moving, giving his pursuers no chance to catch up with him, but he couldn’t.

The slave stopped, he couldn’t run anymore. He tried to crawl but he didn’t even have the energy to do that. He sank to the floor exhausted. The grass felt cool under his face as his lungs heaved from exertion. He felt exhaustion to his very core.

/Please don’t let them find me/ he thought desperately. The slave crawled into the bushes to wait and hope he had done enough and that he was finally free.

CAPITULUS I

Jamesiscus Decimus Ellisonus sighed with contentment as he sat in the grassy meadow a few leagues outside of Rome. Earlier he had been at the Coliseum watching the gladiators fighting, it had been spectacular until the smell of blood and baying of the crowds had become too much for him. He had needed to get away from the sights and smells of 50,000 excited spectators. 

Now he was on his way to the family’s holiday villa on the nearby coast. He had stopped along the way to rest. 

He sat alone with only the birds and insects for company. The day was hot, as was any average summer’s day in Rome, but a slight cooling breeze from the sea ran over his skin. Jamesiscus had never realised how sensitive his skin had become until just recently. He had been a successful soldier in the Fourth Legion, rising steadily up the ranks, but the last few campaigns of his emperor had tested him to his limits. So much so that he couldn’t be a soldier any longer and had retired honourably from the Legion. Being the son of William Ellisonus had its privileges. Now he had no idea what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He was financially stable, didn’t need to work but he wanted to do something to occupy his time. But that was in the future, for the time being he just wanted to rest and recover from the endless wars that the Roman army always seemed to be waging somewhere. This had been a good idea, the quiet and solitude helped him to focus again. The Coliseum had never been a problem for him before, nor had the gladiatorial battles. Spilt blood was inevitable when gladiators were fighting for their very lives, it made their fights that much more realistic and exciting to watch. But Jamesiscus had had enough of fighting and blood being spilt. Now he just wanted to live a quiet and peaceful life.

He took a deep breath and focused his senses on the quiet. He felt relaxed but then suddenly he stopped. He could hear something in a nearby grove of olive trees. How had he heard it from this distance? James wasn’t sure what it was but he got up to investigate. He moved towards the olive trees zeroing in on the sound. It sounded like harsh breathing. 

He came upon a figure huddled at the base of a tree. 

“What have we got here?” he voiced.

The huddled figure started and looked up at James with two large frightened blue eyes. He immediately tried to stand to flee but he crumpled to the ground again.

James could see that his right sandaled ankle was painfully swollen.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you,” James said as placatingly as he could.

The figure gazed back at James with frightened eyes, which looked impossibly large in his dirty and scratched face. They were some distance from Rome and there wasn’t much around this location for a number of leagues. 

“Let me look at that foot.”

The young man tried to crawl away but he was physically exhausted. James moved forward slowly, making no sudden movements, as the man watched his every move closely. James examined the foot and noticed that it was badly sprained. As he manipulated it he tried not to hurt the young man. He had been a medic in the Legion so he knew how to treat injuries in the field. He glanced up at him as he checked the ankle, noting that the man wasn’t making a sound, though he had to be hurting.

“I’m Jamesiscus Decimus Ellisonus. What’s your name?” The man didn’t respond and James took a moment to gaze at him.

He was young, mid-twenties at the most, with a riot of chestnut brown curls and misty blue eyes. His face was covered in dirt and he looked dehydrated and exhausted. There was a vulnerability about him and a haunted look in his expressive eyes that indicated that he had suffered much. There were numerous cuts and abrasions on all exposed surfaces. His simple tunic was torn and ripped. 

He was obviously a runaway slave and James was wondering who he belonged to and why his life was so bad that he felt he had to run away from it. A slave that was caught after running away faced terrible punishment. Some slaves were put to death, some branded on their faces with the letter ‘F’ depicting them as ‘Fugitivus’, and some were whipped severely.

James moved slowly round to the back of the slave.

“Easy, I’m not going to hurt you.”

James eased up the back of the tunic and could see the scars of lash marks. The scourge marks crisscrossed the back in both directions. This slave had been beaten severely, many times. It was up to a master’s discretion as to what punishment he metered out to his slave. James knew there were good masters and bad masters. His own father was a good master, his slaves were never beaten. If they did wrong they were punished but the punishment met the transgression. None of their slaves were ever punished physically. No matter what a slave did wrong, no one deserved that sort of punishment.

James lowered the tunic again. “It’s okay. I have water on my horse. Stay here I will only be a moment.”

The slave didn’t say anything or indicate his comprehension but James moved slowly away and went to his horse which was grazing nearby. He led him back and was glad to see the slave hadn’t moved. He took a canteen from his horse and knelt down beside the frightened man. The slave made no move to take the canteen from James’ hand. So James raised it to the slave’s dry lips and tilted it slowly until the water wet his lips. A tongue darted out of his mouth and quickly lapped up the water. Then the slave raised his hands and tilted the canteen and took grateful swallows of the water.

“Not too much,” James said gently. “We don’t want you to get sick.”

The slave lowered the canteen grudgingly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He felt revived by the water but was confused and unsure as to why this Roman should be so kind and considerate towards him. He was, after all, nothing more than a slave. This nobleman was showing nothing but compassion for no reward and it baffled him.

James was wondering what to do with the slave, though he knew he had to be returned to his owner. The whip marks on his back concerned him, but it was his duty as a nobleman to return the runaway. He knew his father would expect nothing less if one of their slaves ever escaped. Not that any Ellisonus slave had ever run away, his father knew how to treat his property correctly.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked.

The slave remained quiet, looking nervously about him. 

“We have to do something with you,” James replied. “You’re not going to get very far on that ankle anyway.”

The slave’s blue eyes moved to James’ horse. James’ eyebrows rose in amazement that this slip of a slave would even contemplate trying to take his horse. The slave seemed to come to the same realisation and slumped back defeated. James gazed at the slave with sympathy, he looked beaten and he wasn’t yet out of the war. There was still fire in him; it was there in his eyes, probably hidden most of the time but in his exhausted and injured state it was all too visible.

The baying of dogs suddenly sounded in the air. The slave had also heard it for he started to crawl backwards. James listened extending his hearing towards the sound and heard the sound of men as well as dogs. They were searching for the slave. James knew in all good conscience he had to let the slave owner have his property back.

“Where are you going to go?” The slave looked all around him in despair, desperately looking for a way out. “You know you have to go back. “

The slave knew it was true, his gamble had failed. He was going to be beaten severely for this, but he knew even though it was going to hurt and hurt badly, he didn’t care. It had been worth it, worth the attempt to escape from his life. Pain was something he dealt with every day, the pain of being a slave, the pain of punishment for any mistake he made. What did a little punishment for trying to escape mean when it was added to that which he had already endured?

He listened as the dogs’ baying grew louder and soon his master came into the meadow on horseback with three other slaves running at his side, guiding the dogs.

“There you are, Blaere,” the man said as he stopped his horse in front of his missing supine slave. “You’ve led us a merry dance this time,” the man said his tone light but his face held a darkness that made Blaere shiver. He turned his attention to James. “To whom do I have the honour of thanking for finding my runaway slave?”

“I’m Jamesiscus Decimus Ellisonus of House Ellisonus.”

“I’m glad to meet you Jamesiscus Decimus Ellisonus. I am Flavius Aurelius. Thank you for finding Blaere.”

James liked the sound of the young slave’s name. It was a strong name.

“Bring him,” Aurelius said.

Two of his slaves moved forward to grab Blaere. 

“His ankle is injured,” James told Aurelius. “It needs tending.”

“I will tend to my slave when we get back home,” Aurelius replied acerbically, he would not be dictated to by anyone where his property was concerned. 

Blaere visibly shivered at the coldness he heard in that tone. He knew he was going to be punished severely. Blaere’s head lowered as the two slaves picked him up. Blaere tried to walk on his ankle, but it was too swollen and painful. The two slaves didn’t stop and he was practically dragged to his master’s horse. Blaere looked at the floor as they stopped in front of his master. Aurelius used the end of his whip to move Blaere’s face up to look at him.

“You know you are going to suffer for this, Blaere,” Aurelias stated and Blaere moved his eyes to the side trying to remain strong. “Take him from my sight,” his master replied.

“He’s a human being, sir,” James stated.

“That’s where you’re wrong. He’s a slave,” Aurelius replied coldly and James had to stop himself from gasping out loud at that statement. “And he’s my slave.”

James tried to ignore the dispassionate and chilling tone in the slave master’s voice. “He didn’t speak, Blaere that is, he didn’t say a word.”

“Blaere doesn’t speak, never has done. He can hear as well as you and I, but he has never uttered a sound, even when I have to beat him for his disobedience.”

James fought back a retort to that statement. Remembering his place and that it was wrong for another Roman to interfere in the treatment of another man’s slave.

“Thank you again for helping me recovering my slave. Please stop by my villa so I can thank you personally. My villa is on the Vicus Quadrati.”

“I know the one," James stated.

“Good, good,” Aurelius replied. “Please come by tomorrow for a meal, it is the least I can do for.”

“I would be honoured,” James replied as Aurelias nodded and started to ride away.

James glanced towards where the two slaves were half dragging Blaere. The young slave had his head down as he was half walked, half dragged away. James decided to put the sight out of his thoughts; there was nothing he could do for the slave. He had done his best by tending to him. Best he forget about him and Aurelias’ offer of his hospitality. 

Suddenly the tranquillity of the meadow was forgotten as James mounted his horse and started again for the villa on the coast, as the Aurelias party headed back the opposite way to Rome.

James couldn’t get his mind off of the young slave. Blaere’s haunted eyes seemed to burn a brand into his brain. Was it the young man’s terror? Or was it because he could see a vibrant young man behind that shell of fear, being stifled and suffocated? James urged his horse into a canter, hoping that would erase the man’s predicament from his mind. 

By the time the Ellisonus holiday villa came into view, nestled amongst all the other holiday homes of important and wealthy Romans, James had made a decision. He couldn’t get the young slave out of his mind and he had also knew that he had to do something about it. James had decided during the ride back that he was going to the Aurelias Villa and ask the slave owner to sell Blaere to him. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to buy the young slave, or even if he was for sale, but he knew he had to at least try. 

Later that evening James walked into the triclinium (dining room) to find his father and brother already seated and waiting for him.

“I’m sorry I’m late, father,” James apologised as he took his place at the table.

William gazed at his first born son. “Where did you go to after the games, son?”

“I went for a ride.”

“Where did you go?” his brother Stephen asked.

“Not far but whilst I was out I came upon a runaway slave.”

“Really,” his brother said. “What did you do?”

“He was injured when I found him, so I did what I could.”

“Brother dearest, will you never change,” Stephen replied derisively. “Always trying to help any bleeding heart that crosses your path.”

“Where is this slave now?” William asked ignoring his son’s comment. 

“The owner turned up and reclaimed him.”

“I bet that slave will feel the lash at the very least for running away,” Stephen saying the words with an almost gleeful tone, as if it was right for slaves to be beaten. “It’s a good job our slaves don’t run off like that.”

“I’m sure you would love to teach them the error of their ways,” James replied acidly.

“I would lash them until they begged for mercy,” his brother replied without an ounce of pity. “Slaves need to know their place.”

“Who was this slave owner?” his father asked.

“Flavius Aurelias.”

“I know him. He’s a sadistic bastard and definitely not a person to cross. He has the ear of some very important people in the Senate. I trust you handled yourself with honour, my son?”

“Of course, father,” James replied, but feeling sad that his father and brother seemed to care more about the slave owner than the slave, especially after he had told them he had been injured. “He’s invited me to his villa as a thank you for returning his slave.”

“Good, good,” William replied smiling broadly.

James didn’t say anything but he knew why his father was so pleased. William had made it known for many years how he wanted James to enter the Senate and become a politician. James didn’t have any political ambitions. He had been a successful soldier but now all he wanted was to live a quiet life. He had lost his thirst for battle and bloodshed and politics was as bloodthirsty as any war. Now he wanted to carve out another career in Rome but definitely not of the political animal.

The head slave Telvus appeared with their first course and the conversation changed but James was only half listening. His mind was on Blaere and he was wondering what was happening to the slave that night.

SPQR**SPQR

Blaere drew himself into a ball of misery. As soon as they had returned to the Aurelias Villa he had been taken to the cellar and left there in the darkness until his master decided to punish him for his running away.

He shivered in the cold, dark place trying not to cry. If only his bid for freedom had worked, if only he could have run that little bit longer, that little bit further. If only that Roman hadn’t have stopped him. But Blaere knew it wasn’t the Roman’s fault, he couldn’t have gotten any further, not on the ankle he had twisted. His ankle was throbbing now but it was nothing compared to the pain he was going to be feeling before the night gave way to the dawn. At the time it had seemed worth it. It had been worth the risk for freedom, but now alone and huddled in the dark awaiting his punishment the young slave wondered. 

He wasn’t sure how long he waited and fretted in the cold darkness but suddenly he heard the latch on the door move. Blaere’s breath caught in his throat, his heart starting to hammer in his chest. Two slaves, Wiktor and Catus, moved silently down the staircase. Without a word they moved either side of Blaere and hoisted him to his feet. They took him up the stairs to confront their master.

It was night. Blaere was taken to the garden in the centre of the villa where all punishment was meted out. Aurelias was sat on a bench reading a scroll. He waved his right hand idly as he continued to read. The two slaves removed Blaere’s tunic and then tied him to an ‘X’ made out of two crossed beams of wood. 

Aurelias sighed loudly as he put down the scroll and stood. He walked over to where Blaere had been tied. He walked round so he could face his slave.

“Blaere, what am I going to do with you? You’ve disappointed me yet again slave. By rights I could brand you for the fugitivus you are, but I am not without mercy,” Blaere kept his eyes lowered to the ground as his master addressed him. “No, a beating with the lash might make you remember your place. Not that it has before, but we can hope.”

Aurelias ordered a slave to bring him his whip. Blaere remained motionless and expressionless. He wouldn’t give his master the satisfaction of seeing how scared he was. Blaere tried to think of something else, something good or beautiful, but he couldn’t find anything to latch onto. His life revolved around servitude and pain, there was nothing gentle or aesthetic in his life to focus on.

Suddenly the lash bit into his back. Blaere tensed but didn’t make a sound. He knew Aurelias was meting out the punishment personally, as he had a mind to, enjoying inflicting pain on his slaves. The lash snapped again and again as it scourged into the skin on Blaere’s back. He could feel the blood running down his back. Blaere lost count of the number of lashes he endured and he was just on the verge of blacking out when the punishment stopped.

Blackness hovered on the edges of his vision as he was gently taken down by Wiktor and Catus. They took Blaere to his quarters, a small room with a bed and a chest for his meagre belongings. 

“Lay him on the bed,” Nolus said, the head servant. Now in his fifties Nolus had served Aurelias for over twenty years. “Gently,” he said to the two other slaves. “On his front. That’s it.”

“Will he be alright?” Wiktor asked.

“He’ll be fine,” Nolus reassured the two slaves. “You can go now.” The two slaves quietly left. “Oh, Blaere, you’ve done it this time,” Nolus said as he gazed upon the ravaged back. “Can you hear me, Blaere?”

There was a slight nod as Blaere tried to move, but although he didn’t make a sound, his face creased up in pain. 

“Don’t move your back is going to be very sore for a while. But you know that as it’s not the first time you’ve felt the master’s lash, nor knowing you, the last time.” Nolus sighed, his dark blue eyes softening slightly. “Dear Blaere, when are you going to learn that you cannot escape and accept your life the way it is. You are a slave. Accept that. Aurelias isn’t that bad a master if you stay on his good side.”

Blaere’s eyes opened slightly as he listened to his friend but then he closed them again. He would never accept being a slave. He would continue to fight to be free until the day he died. 

“This is going to hurt a bit but I have to clean your wounds.”

Blaere nodded and lay passively on the bed as Nolus cleaned away the blood and checked each lash mark for dirt. Satisfied the injuries would heal in time he applied a healing salve. He knew the salve had to sting but Blaere didn’t utter a sound. He had no bandages so Nolus used an old piece of clean cloth to keep the wounds clean and dry. 

“Drink this, Blaere, it will help you sleep.”

Nolus had prepared a drink for his injured friend from the poppy plant. It was well known throughout the Roman Empire for its medicinal qualities. Nolus had had to prepare it many times for his master. Now he gave it to Blaere without his master’s permission, but he knew how much pain the young man would be in and would face his master’s wrath if he was caught, to give Blaere a pain free night. A hollow reed allowed Blaere to drink the medicine. He smiled his thanks to the head slave as his thoughts became heavy and his eyes drooped. 

Blaere could see the night sky through the room’s only window. A bright star caught his eye twinkling benignly. The pain in his back and his ankle was thankfully fading away. He gazed longingly at the star wishing desperately on it for a way out of his life of servitude and despair. 

The star was the last thing Blaere saw as his eyes closed and he fell into a deep drug induced sleep. 

Knowing he could do no more, Nolus left the young slave to sleep.

SPQR**SPQR

CAPITULUS II

James woke early the next morning to the sound of the surf crashing onto the nearby beach. His first thoughts were for the young slave he’d helped the previous day. He’d even haunted his dreams and as he sat up in bed he realised he didn’t feel rested. James’ mind was in too much turmoil and he couldn’t get the runaway slave out of his head. Slave owners had the right to do whatever they liked to their slaves, especially ‘fugitivus’ slaves, Blaere could already have been disciplined, branded or could even be dead. 

James pushed all the thoughts away as he did his morning routine. He bathed, dressed and had breakfast, but all the while subdued.

It was midmorning. James tried not to leave too early and appear too eager, but he couldn’t leave it a minute longer. He had Sorio, one of his father’s slaves, saddle his horse. He rode briskly toward Rome and the Aurelias’ Villa, wondering all the way what he was going to say to the slave master. He just had to persuade the man to let him buy Blaere. 

The slave Nolus welcomed James and took him to a small waiting room to wait for his master. The room was typical of Roman villas. The walls were highly decorated with mosaics. This room dedicated to Bacchus, the god of fertility and wine. James walked over to the open window that overlooked the central garden. A gentle breeze ran over him and he took a deep breath and calmed himself. 

The doors behind him opened and Aurelias moved into the room followed closely by Nolus. 

“James, I am so glad you took me up on my offer,” Aurelias gushed as he moved towards James, a broad grin on his face.

“Aurelias the pleasure is mine. I was concerned about your slave and his injuries. I treated them to the best of my ability.”

“You did indeed,” Aurelias smiled as he sat down on a platform for eating. He indicated to James to join him. “Nolus bring us refreshments. I am intrigued by your concerns for my slave.”

“I was a medic in the Legion,” James explained. “I hope I helped and didn’t exacerbate the injury.”

“No indeed Blaere’s ankle is much better this morning. I have already checked on him.”

“I am glad,” James responded as Nolus came in with a tray containing a selection of fruits and some small cakes sweetened with honey. James helped himself to a cake and took a bite. It was actually very good, and then he became serious. “Actually, I was wondering if Blaere was for sale.”

Aurelias’ concentration was on what tasty morsel to choose but he stopped in mid selection surprised by James’ proposal.

“I must admit I did not expect you to ask that of me. Can I ask why you want to buy my troublesome slave Blaere? He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

“I am in need of a slave and I think Blaere is just the one I am looking for,” James hoped he didn’t sound too needy or eager.

“I don’t think Blaere is the right slave for anyone. He has always been a problem. I can’t tell you the trouble he has been since he came into my service. He has run away countless times. I am at my wit’s end with that particular slave. It wouldn’t be fair to inflict him on anyone else, especially someone I admire. The Ellisonus family deserves better than that slave.”

“Where did you buy him from?” James enquired. “Maybe I could get a slave like Blaere from there,” he added trying to shift the attention away from Blaere.

“I sort of inherited him from my uncle when he died. I could have inherited any number of priceless objects but I inherited Blaere instead. Though Blaere never speaks so he never complains” and Aurelia laughed at his own joke. James also joined in laughing at the crude joke but only to appease and humour the slave master.

“I think I would still like to buy the slave. What could I offer you that would tempt you?” James asked bluntly.

“Well...” Aurelias said thoughtfully, purposefully taking his time. “Let us eat and negotiate,” Aurelias added sweetly. 

James smiled but inside his stomach was churning and threatening to expunge the honeyed cake he had just eaten. 

They talked and bandied figures about for a while. Aurelias still wouldn’t commit and James knew the man wasn’t serious about selling Blaere; he was just leading him along for his own amusement. 

“I would count it as a personal favour,” James stated knowing he was going to hate being beholden to the unctuous man, but he was determined to leave the villa owning Blaere. Aurelias’ dark brown eyes narrowed and regarded the elder Ellisonus. Flavius Aurelias’ mind was churning over and he liked what he was thinking, the house of Ellisonus owing him a favour.

“James, I believe we have a deal,” Aurelias said, the corners of his mouth lifting up into a generous smile and James wondered if he had just made a deal with the devil. 

“Thank you,” James said. “May I see my property now?”

“Nolus,” Aurelias said to his slave who had been waiting patiently by the door for his next command. “Bring Blaere to me.”

“Yes, master,” Nolus replied obediently and hurried from the room.

A short while later Blaere was brought in. He was limping, his head was down and he looked dejected. He was shaking minutely, most people wouldn’t have been able to tell, but James detected it.

“Are you alright, Blaere?” James asked and the young slave’s head whipped up on hearing that voice. The voice of the Roman from yesterday.

Blaere’s eyes were like saucers as he nodded his head. He was astonished to see the young Roman who had helped him the day before in his master’s villa. Part of him warred with the fact that the man had helped him get captured again by his master, but he pushed that down again as reason won.

“Is your ankle okay?”

Blaere nodded again. “I have news for you, Blaere. I’m your new master.”

Blaere looked from Aurelias to James and back to Aurelias again, unable to believe what he had been told. Aurelias just looked at his former slave with a diffident look on his face. Blaere could hardly believe it was true. His back was still hurting terribly from the vicious beating he had received the night before for his escape attempt and his ankle was sore and painful. Now he wondered what his life would be like under the ownership of the charismatic Roman. He had seemed sincere in his desire to help him the day before. Maybe his life wouldn’t be as bad with him as his master. 

“Blaere, go gather your belongings or whatever, we’ll be leaving shortly,” James stated

Blaere nodded and left the room. Nolus followed and when they were outside he stopped Blaere and gave him a hug mindful of his hurting back.

“I’m so pleased for you lad. I hope Master Ellisonus is a good master to you. He seems a kindly man, not like Aurelias. No one can be as bad as that man.”

Blaere smiled and cupped Nolus’ right cheek in his hand portraying what gratitude he could to the aging slave. Nolus had been there for him the past few years when Aurelias had beaten him, bathing him and making sure his wounds were treated. He wouldn’t be alive now if it wasn’t for the elderly genteel slave. 

“Have a good life, Blaere,” Nolus said and the younger slave nodded. “Best go get your things. You mustn’t be tardy from the first command of your new master.”

Nolus watched Blaere go with a heavy heart. He was going to miss the quiet young man. Blinking back the tears the old slave slipped back into the room in case his master needed him for something else. 

It didn’t take Blaere long to gather his few possessions. He didn’t even bother to take one last look at the small room that had been his refuge for the past few years. A refuge from the severity of his treatment by his former owner. He would miss the other slaves, especially Nolus, but he had a new life now. 

Blaere waited respectfully at the front door for his new master to conclude his business with his former master. 

“I’ll have one of my father’s slaves bring you the money this afternoon,” he told Aurelias as Wiktor opened the front door to allow James to leave. 

“Thank you, Master Ellisonus,” Aurelias responded.

James moved quickly outside. Blaere immediately followed as Wiktor smiled at him. The door closed behind him and Blaere limped to catch up to his new master as Catus handed James the reins to his horse. James spurred his horse forward and Blaere immediately followed. Though he didn’t utter a sound of sufferance, James could tell his ankle was troubling him. He stopped and waited for Blaere to catch up to him.

“This will not do,” James said thoughtfully.

Blaere looked up horrified at his new master thinking that he had already displeased him.

“Take my hand,” James commanded and with astonishment Blaere did as he was bid. He put his sandaled foot into the stirrup and allowed his new master to hoist him onto the horse’s back. “Hold onto me, Blaere, I don’t want you falling off.”

Blaere put his arms round his new master’s waist as he spurred his horse on and they were moving. It felt strange to be on the horse, when previously he had only ever walked or ridden in a wagon. He relaxed and went with the motion of the horse. He didn’t find it unpleasant. It had certainly taken the strain off his throbbing ankle. His back still hurt and he was sure the motion of the horse had opened a few of the scourge marks, but the more he relaxed and went with the motion of the horse, the less his back hurt.

As they rode Blaere gazed at the profile of his new master in front of him. He began to hope that his life had actually changed and for the better. That wish he had made on the star, lying on his bed the previous night in pain and despair, maybe it was being granted after all. 

For the first time in a very long time, Blaere’s heart began to feel lighter. For a long time it had held nothing but misery and desolation, with no hope and only the promise of more pain in the future. Now there was light when there previously was none. 

SPQR**SPQR

They reached the Ellisonus’ Rome Villa and James lifted his right leg over his saddle’s cantle and then dropped to the ground. He helped Blaere down making sure his ankle would support him. The front door opened and two of the family’s slaves rushed out. Sorio took the reins of his master’s horse as Telvus rushed to his master.

“Master?” he asked for instructions.

“Help me with Blaere,” he ordered.

“Yes, Master James,” he replied and Telvus took Blaere’s right arm and put it over his shoulder. 

They helped Blaere inside. Blaere glanced round the vestibulum (entrance hall). It was light and airy. The foyer had a tiled floor and colourful mosaics on the wall. 

“To the bathing room,” James said and they helped Blaere walk to a room with a large lido-like bathing area where the Ellisonus’ bathed.

“Take off your clothes,” James commanded without preamble.

Blaere was horrified and suddenly his new life seemed about to become as degrading as his previous one. When Blaere didn’t respond James spoke again.

“Did you hear me, Blaere?” and the young slave nodded.

Blaere began to remove his clothing. He lifted the tunic over his head and dropped it to the ground.

“Sorio take the tunic to Telvus and ask him to burn it.”

“Yes, master,” Sorio responded and picked up the fallen tunic and moved from the room.

Blaere stood in the room in his underclothes, shivering slightly and wondering what his new master expected of him. James walked round his new slave making mental notes of his condition and injuries.

“Did Aurelias beat you for running away yesterday?” James asked noting the fresh lash marks on the slave’s back and Blaere nodded. “Your life will be different here, Blaere, no one will punish you but there will be no running away. Understand?” and Blaere nodded still looking at the floor. “Good.”

Sorio returned to the room and James commanded his slave to take over care of Blaere.

“Sorio, I want you to give Blaere a bath and then tend to his wounds. Fetch him new clothing and then he is to rest for the rest of the day. Also, give Blaere as much food and water as he can consume. We’ll discuss his duties later. He doesn’t speak but he can hear you perfectly.”

“Yes, master,” Sorio replied.

“Are you alright, Blaere?” James asked.

Blaere nodded and James smiled reassuringly and then left the room. Blaere watched as his new master disappeared from view as he contemplated the compassion and tenderness he had been shown. 

Sorio glanced at Blaere’s back and winced. “You must have done something bad for all these injuries,” but the new slave didn’t respond. “Blaere, are you listening to me?” Sorio asked.

Blaere was suddenly aware that he was being addressed. He nodded and glanced at the brown haired slave.

“Your last master was a real bastard huh?” Sorio said and Blaere nodded. “Well the Ellisonus’ are good to their slaves but we don’t want some upstart coming in here and upsetting things. You cause trouble and the other slaves will take exception and you might find them turning on you. You understand?” and Blaere nodded his head. “That’s good. Do right by us and we’ll do right by you. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

Sorio helped Blaere bathe and then cleaned and salved his back. He helped him into a new tunic and took him to his room. Blaere was exhausted and lay down gratefully on his front. Sorio brought him food and water and waited whilst he consumed it. Blaere tolerated Sorio’s presence knowing that he was only following his master’s orders.

Blaere fell asleep soon after and Sorio left him to rest.

SPQR**SPQR

The three Ellisonus’ always ate an evening meal together whenever they could. They led separate lives and it was the only chance they often got to catch up with what the other was doing. William was the father and ruled his sons with a rod of iron. He had pitted his sons, Jamesiscus and Stephenus, against the other since they were children. He still tried to on occasion but now his children were their own men and wise to their father’s machinations. They weren’t a close family but they were all Ellisonus’.

Sorio and Telvus were serving up the evening meal. James was chewing on an olive when his father asked him what he’d done that day.

“I bought a slave,” James replied matter of factly. 

“You did what!” William replied almost chocking on his food.

“You heard me, father.”

“Was it the slave that belonged to Aurelias?” his father asked and James nodded. “So where is this slave?”

“He’s resting.”

“You bought a slave and he’s resting!” his father scoffed. “Jamesiscus, you go too far.”

“Brother, slaves are meant to work,” Stephen replied with a crooked smile on his face knowing how displeasing his father would find this.

“This one’s been abused. He can start tomorrow.”

“You’re too soft, James,” William replied.

“Sorio bring Blaere to me,” James told his servant.

“Yes, master,” the slave replied and bowed before leaving the room.

The three Ellisonus’ continued to eat as the slave returned with Blaere in tow. Blaere was still limping slightly, his hair was dishevelled and he had obviously been woken up. James felt slightly guilty about that as his new slave needed his rest.

“So this is your new slave,” William said looking the young man up and down with obvious derision. “What’s your name slave?” Blaere remained silent as he looked at William and then at James. James was about to tell his father that his slave couldn’t speak when William spoke again. “I asked you a question, slave!”

Blaere looked down at the ground. He could feel his master’s father’s anger.

“Father, Blaere can’t speak.”

“You mean he’s deaf and dumb?” Stephen asked. “How much did you pay for him?” he added humour in his voice. “Too much I imagine,” he added sarcastically.

James ignored his brother’s second question but answered the first one. “No he’s not deaf and dumb; he can hear just fine, he just doesn’t talk.”

“Are you alright, Blaere?” James enquired and the slave nodded. “Your ankle okay?” and again Blaere nodded. “And your back?” and this time Blaere just shrugged his shoulders. 

James made note. The wounds had looked quite angry when he had examined them earlier and they would still be causing him pain. It was good that he hadn’t lied to him and told him his back wasn’t hurting when it obviously was. James didn’t want a slave who lied. “Did Sorio put some salve on your back earlier?” and Blaere nodded. “You retire now Blaere and I’ll check on you later.”

Blaere nodded and then bowed and retreated from the room, still limping. James watched his new slave leave making a mental note to check his injuries later. It would be no good if his back got infected. After Blaere had gone, James noticed his father was staring at him.

“I can’t believe you’re pandering to that slave like that. You retire now, Blaere,” his father mimicked. “He’s a slave not your son!” he added emphatically.

“If a slave becomes sick and can’t work what use is he?” James asked but didn’t expect an answer, instead he continued to speak. “You didn’t see Blaere’s back before. Aurelias was particularly savage to that slave. He deserves a few kind words and some compassion. He’ll do his best for us then.”

“Our slaves know what’s expected of them,” William countered.

“Did this Blaere try to escape from Aurelias? Is that why he beat him?” Stephen asked.

“Yes,” his brother replied.

“Do you think he’ll try to escape from us?”

“No I don’t, Stephen. We treat our slaves fairly and justly. That’s why they don’t try to escape. The same goes for Blaere, I know he won’t try to escape.”

James thought about his new slave as they resumed their meal. There was something special about this one. He was as bright as they came and despite his mistreated past, James knew he would work out just fine and be a good slave. 

SPQR**SPQR

It was getting late. Blaere lay on his front in his small quarters trying to get into a comfortable position. Master James had been in earlier and had tended to his wounds personally. He had checked his foot, manipulating the ankle, making sure the swelling was going down. He had then methodically checked every lash mark on his back and applied fresh salve. 

Blaere was still a little in awe of his new master. He was so gentle and thoughtful. Blaere wasn’t sure yet about the father and brother, especially the father; he felt nothing but contempt from him when he had been introduced to them. He felt like a piece of cattle in a market, being examined as to whether he was fit enough to be bought.

There was something different about Master James. Blaere knew he would do his best for his new master. He had always tried to be that way, but Master Aurelias had been a difficult master to please. 

Blaere winced as he moved. His back hurt every time he moved, the lash marks on his back straining as he moved. Blaere’s closed his eyes and he drifted to sleep, as he wondered what his new life had in store for him. 

SPQR**SPQR

CAPITULUS III

The next few days went by quickly for Blaere as he learned what was expected of him at the Ellisonus Villa. The first thing he noted was what a good and benevolent master James was. His father was another matter and Blaere tried to keep out of his way as much as possible. He could tell the elder Ellisonus didn’t approve of their newest slave. 

Blaere found the other Ellisonus slaves to be pleasant to him. They were all in the same boat and looked out for each other. Their service reflected on each other. 

In some ways Blaere was still sad because he was a slave, but his life had improved exponentially since leaving Aurelias’s service. So now he felt happier than he had in a very long time.

Blaere’s back was still sore and he had to be careful what he did, but the lash marks were starting to close and heal. So far James had been true to his word and no one had hit him if he did something wrong. A small part of him still expected it, but deep down the new slave knew James was a good man and he wouldn’t discipline him physically if he got something incorrect.

After only a few days Blaere found himself settling in to his new life and even found himself to be at ease and almost content. 

James told Blaere they would be going to a gathering that night held by a friend of his father’s. James didn’t want to go he found that he had trouble with his senses when there was a large gathering of people in close proximity to him. It was the reason he had been in the meadow when he had found Blaere, exhausted and injured, from trying to escape his previous master. James gazed at his new slave and saw the difference in him. He was still unsure of himself and timid but he was coming round slowly. 

James sighed as he thought about the imminent gathering. His father gave him and his brother no choice in attending. At least the Speratus Villa had a large terrace so he could stand out in the fresh air and admire the stars. He would still be at the party but if his father thought he was going to mingle he had another thing coming.

SPQR**SPQR

The gathering was as odorous as the elder Ellisonus son thought it would be. Jamesiscus stood on the verandah, a glass of some unknown drink in his hand. He could hear the cacophonous voices of the guests all around him. Their incessant chatter was giving him a headache. He could hear his father’s voice talking continually as he played the room. A number of important people were at the gathering and William was making sure he talked to all of them. Stephenus was somewhere mingling, probably chatting up a pretty woman or two, so he wouldn’t be alone that night. James was content to stand on the terrace and try and shut out the dissonant sounds from inside.

Blaere and Sorio had accompanied them and they were probably in the culina (kitchen) with the other slaves. It was usually a good opportunity for the slaves to mingle and relax with their own kind. When they weren’t needed Felix Speratus’ slaves would join them. James didn’t begrudge them some downtime. Though it was a slave’s duty to serve their masters, they needed some time to unwind as well. They got precious little normally. There would be drink and food available for them and they could spend a number of hours with their own kind, unless their masters needed them and they would be summoned immediately. James hoped that Blaere was having a good time and relaxing. James was pleased with his slave so far and he had adapted well to his new life. He had the making of a proficient and trustworthy slave.

Blaere glanced round the culina area. He could see Sorio dancing with a slave girl. The music from the main hall was filtering back to the culina. There was much laughter and the slaves were all relaxed and enjoying themselves. Blaere wasn’t sure what to do. He only knew a few of the slaves and being unable to converse with them they tended to keep their distance from him. 

“Enjoying yourself?” a female voice suddenly asked beside him.

Blaere was surprised that someone had spoken to him and he nodded once non-committedly. 

“Sorio tells me your name’s Blaere but that you don’t speak,” and Blaere nodded again. “My name’s Emmeline,” she added smiling warmly.

Blaere smiled back and looked at the woman. She was young, had long brown hair and the greenest eyes he had ever seen. She was a little shorter than he was and had a lovely warm smile.

Emmeline took a sip of her drink and then looked at the other slaves dancing.

“Do you want to dance, Blaere?”

Blaere looked at the dancers and then back to Emmeline with a look of shock on his face. He didn’t know what to indicate. He had never been asked by a woman to dance before. His ankle was much better so he knew he could. The rest he had had when he had first arrived at the Ellisonus Villa had stood him in good stead and allowed the sprain to heal. The same couldn’t be said for his back which would take a lot longer to heal fully. Blaere glanced over at Sorio who only had eyes for the woman he was currently stuck up again. His hands were down the front of her tunic, much to her delight, judging by the broad smile on her face. The dancers were dancing awfully close too. Blaere shrugged his shoulders.

“Come on, Blaere,” she encouraged not taking no for an answer and taking his hand she propelled him forward. “It’ll be fun.”

Emmeline lead Blaere to where the other dancers were swaying to the music. Emmeline smiled as she took Blaere’s hands and put them on her hips. Then she put her hands on his shoulders and they swayed together, still with a gap between them. 

Blaere had to admit he was enjoying himself. Emmeline swayed provocatively but not suggestively, her green eyes watching him but only platonically and not with desire.

“Are the Ellisonus family good to you?” she asked and Blaere nodded.

Emmeline’s right hand brushed his back and although Blaere didn’t make a sound, his face scrunched up in pain. The young woman’s hand had inadvertently caught one of his many lash wounds.

“I’m sorry, Blaere. Did I hurt you?” she asked concerned.

Blaere raised his hand in a placating gesture, telling her it was alright. 

“Emmeline,” a male voice shouted behind her. “The master needs more wine.”

Emmeline nodded and immediately moved away to serve her master. Blaere watched her go with a little sadness, as he had enjoyed her attention. His back was still sore but it was manageable, only when he inadvertently caught it did it smart. Blaere went and sat down again. He was still tired easily from his aborted escape attempt and loss of blood from the wounds on his back. Any moment he or Sorio might be summoned to help serve their masters. Blaere moved to sit by the far wall, the other Ellisonus slave still revelling, but ready to do their masters’ bidding in a moment. Blaere leant his shoulder against the cool plastered wall and closed his eyes for a moment. He could still hear the nonsensical chatter of the other slaves but it was strangely soothing. He felt himself enjoying himself despite his reticence to be in the company of others. Blaere had lived with fear for so long, wondering and waiting for Aurelias to punish him next, that he found it hard to just relax around other people, whether they were nobles or slaves. Blaere sighed to himself and waited undisturbed until it was time to return to the Ellisonus Villa.

SPQR**SPQR

Jamesiscus woke with a start. It was still night but late. He was lying in bed and the villa was silent. They had returned from the party late, way beyond midnight. The family were all tired and had gone to bed soon after returning. James wasn’t sure what time it was and what had awakened him, he only knew something was wrong. There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He rose and slipped on a robe. He left his bedroom and listened. Still there was no sound but still the uneasiness gnawed at him. 

He moved silently through the villa, even though it was dark he didn’t need a candle to illuminate his way. It didn’t occur to him that he was seeing easily when he shouldn’t have been able to. It just came naturally to him. His focus was solely on the cause of his unease.

James didn’t summon a servant, instead he just ambled through the villa listening and looking for anything out of place. His amblings took him to his new slave’s room. James opened the door, not bothering to knock; he was the slave’s master and was able to go wherever he wanted to in his own house.

He immediately noticed that the slave’s bed was empty. It looked like it had been slept in; the top sheet was rumpled and pushed aside. Blaere had been asleep in that bed. James had wandered through the entire villa and there had been no sign of his slave. It was forbidden for the slaves to leave the villa at night unless ordered to do so. So where was Blaere? The nagging doubt of his father’s words came to haunt him. Blaere had run away before and his father had said the slave couldn’t be trusted not to try to run away again. James wholeheartedly believed that Blaere wouldn’t run away. He had left a sadistic and cruel owner, now he had been shown nothing but patience and tolerance. James didn’t want to believe his new slave was gone but his bed was empty when it shouldn’t have been.

Suddenly James was aware of a sound in the otherwise quiet villa. It was a thumping sound. He heard it again, it was regular and consistent. James moved his head and realised the sound was coming from the slave’s room. 

On a hunch James bent down and looked under the bed. Blaere was cowering there shivering in the dark. James was amazed to realise it was his slave’s hammering heartbeat he could hear. He didn’t know how he could hear it beating so loudly without putting his ear to his chest. But now wasn’t the time for thinking about such erroneous happenings. 

“It’s alright, Blaere,” James said quietly. “You’re safe now.”

Blaere hadn’t seemed to have heard his master, so James spoke again; his tone was soft and understanding. He moved his open hand under the bed and touched Blaere’s leg. The young man flinched at the touch but he couldn’t draw back any further. His slave was already cringing right up against the far wall.

“I won’t hurt you, Blaere,” James said encouragingly.

This time Blaere’s head moved a little and his blue eyes looked towards James in the darkness. James could see his slave move his head as recognition dawned in his frightened eyes.

“It’s me, Master James,” he said passively. “Come on ou,t Blaere, you can’t be very comfortable under there.”

There was no response from the young slave. James cursed the name of Aurelias and what he had done to traumatise Blaere so severely. James knew he could have shouted and ordered his slave to obey him but he didn’t want to resort to a harsh tone, he wanted to coax his frightened slave out gently. He knew the room was dark so James lit a candle and returned to the bed. He knelt down again and the light illuminated the slave’s distraught face.

“Blaere, listen to me,” James said gently. 

Two wide blue eyes turned to look at him and the young slave’s breathing evened out as he finally focused on his master.

“Can you hear me, Blaere?”

Blaere nodded suddenly feeling embarrassed to be cowering under his bed in view of his master.

“It’s alright, Blaere,” he said.

Blaere inched forward slowly and crawled out from under the bed. He stood on unsteady legs, his head lowered in embarrassment. 

“Did you have a nightmare, Blaere?” and the slave nodded but didn’t look up. “You’re safe here,” James said gently, but the slave didn’t acknowledge his words. “Look at me, Blaere.”

Two frightened cerulean eyes looked up at his master. They were hooded and dark in the subdued light but James could see the fear and panic in those blue orbs. 

“I mean it no one will hurt you here,” and Blaere nodded again. James hoped he believed him.

Blaere tried to stifle a yawn, suddenly feeling exhausted. “You’re tired, get back into bed. Lie on your front.”

Blaere did as he was told; sinking into the mattress, glad of its comfort. He felt his master lift the back of his night tunic, and there was a moment’s fear as he wondered what he was doing. Then deft fingers checked over the lash marks on his back. 

“You haven’t reopened any of your wounds,” he said resolutely. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll leave the candle on the trunk so you won’t be in the dark. Okay?”

Blaere nodded gratefully at his master. He wished he could tell him thank you in words but instead he reached out his hand and lightly touched his master on the arm. James looked down at the hand gently touching him and he smiled slightly as he left his new slave to sleep.

Blaere looked at the closed door reflecting for a few moments about the tolerance he had been shown, but his eyes were heavy and his eyelids closed and he soon fell back into a restful sleep. 

No more nightmares plagued his dreams that night.

SPQR**SPQR

Blaere continued to do his duties at the villa and the days blended into one another. Blaere was in the culina when there was a knock at the back door which was on the outside wall of the villa. Velva the cook answered it. Blaere paid the door no mind and continued the chore Velva had given him. Velva ruled the culina and the matriarchal woman gave orders that had to be obeyed the same, as any order he might receive from Master William or Master Stephenus. Only Master Jamesiscus did Blaere not fear. There was something kind about him that made Blaere respect him. Most slaves hated their masters and their lives of servitude and up until the Ellisonus family Blaere had been like them. But as long as James was a member of the household Blaere knew he could have a happy life. 

He’d had nightmares consistently for years, mainly of being beaten to death by Aurelias. Since the nightmare, the night James had found him cowering under his bed, he’d had no more. He still had the odd flashback during the day, a testament to his harsh life when he had been owned by Aurelias, but even they were getting less frequent. Blaere was starting to believe that he might have found a true master.

“It’s for you, Blaere,” Velva said stirring Blaere from his reverie.

He looked up from chopping vegetables to see Emmeline sweep into the culina.

“Hi, Blaere,” she greeted him with a huge smile on her face.

Blaere raised his hand in greeting. He hadn’t forgotten dancing in the culina with Emmeline at the Speratus Villa.

She walked over to Blaere her smile fading and her face looked serious. “Can we talk?”

Blaere nodded and immediately went over to Velva. He tapped her on the arm to get her attention and then pointed at the double doors led to the central garden.

“Okay, Blaere, but five minutes okay. The master hates his meals late,” Velva replied sternly looking over at Emmeline to warn her not to keep Blaere long.

Blaere nodded and took his friend by the hand outside to the villa’s central garden. They sat on a small bench. Emmeline looked at the plants composing her thoughts, as Blaere looked at her profile. There was something troubling her he could see that.

“Blaere, I need your help,” she implored and Blaere nodded indicating that he would if he could. “Blaere, you have to help me escape.” 

Blaere was surprised by the request and shook his head immediately. What Emmeline was asking was too much. When he had run away from Aurelias he had taken a terrible risk. A slave had to be sure they were doing the right thing if they attempted to escape and accept the consequences if caught. The Speratus Villa had seemed a good place. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to run away from there. No one wanted to be a slave but with little or no options a good master was better than a brutal and sadistic one. 

But another thought nagged at Blaere even greater than the prospect of helping Emmeline escape. If he did help her escape and James found out he would be very disappointed in Blaere and he didn’t think he could live with that. James had been nothing but kind to him and he didn’t want to jeopardise that.

Blaere shook his head.

“Blaere, I’m desperate. I’m pregnant. Another slave is the father. If my master finds out he’ll make me get rid of the baby. I don’t want to give my baby up. I want my baby to be born free,” there was a beseeching look in her green eyes as she emphasised her words. Emmeline knew her words had struck home as soon as she had mentioned that she wanted her child to be born free.

“Will you help me, Blaere?”

Blaere shook his head but there was pain in his eyes as he did so. 

Blaere remembered the past and the memories came back unbidden. The slave couldn’t help but remember twenty-one years previously when he had been a young boy of five. The memories were still painful and it was so vivid it could have been only the day before. The events were branded into his mind. Blaere was remembering his red haired mother, her smile as bright as the sun. One day the master had come up to them. Blaere could still feel his mother’s fear; she was shaking and quietly sobbing as she held Blaere tightly in her arms. He could still feel her arms encircling him, trying to keep him safe. But Blaere had been callously snatched from his mother’s arms by the master and he had handed him over to another man. His mom had screamed for him and he could still remember her screaming his name over and over again, but they still took him away. He couldn’t even remember his Mom’s given name anymore or even if she was still alive or dead. Had she had a good life or was she long dead? He feared he would never know. 

He didn’t want that to happen to anyone’s child again. 

Blaere realised he had to help Emmeline. Whatever the consequences might be he had to help her. Help her unborn child so he or she could grow up with their mother and know her love.

Slowly he nodded his head and Emmeline sighed and then hugged Blaere thanking him. When she had seen him at the gathering she had known then that Blaere was the one she would ask to help her. She knew what she was asking, and part of her felt guilty for that, but her unborn child meant everything to her. Whatever the consequences, it would be born free; she had made a silent, solemn vow to that. 

“How, Blaere? Do you know a way?”

Blaere shook his head as he had to think of a plan. He had learned from his abortive escape attempt. He couldn’t outrun his former master and his dogs. There was no way that Emmeline could run in her condition and there was no way to get a horse. Slaves were not permitted to ride and if Emmeline was seen on horseback it would immediately arouse suspicions. No he had to think and come up with a new plan. 

Bending down Blaere drew the sun in the dirt and then a line below it to indicate the horizon. He held up two fingers to his friend indicating he needed two days to come up with a plan. 

“Two days,” Emmeline whispered and Blaere nodded. “Will you come with me?”

Blaere thought about that and its connotations. He had thought about being free his whole life ever since he first realised he was a slave, the property of a Flavius Aurelias’ uncle, who had been as cruel and vindictive a master as his nephew. Blaere often dreamed of being able to make his own decisions, even about the most mundane of things, but that was before James had bought him. He was unlike most slave masters. There was compassion there and he thought he may come to regret his decision but he had decided to stay and be James’ slave. Blaere didn’t know why, only that he knew it was the right decision.

Finally Blaere shook his head. Emmeline didn’t understand why her friend wanted to stay and be a slave but she decided to abide by his decision. It was enough he was taking the risk in helping her. 

Blaere noticed that Emmeline was holding her stomach protectively with her hands. He put his own hand on top of hers to reassure her. Emmeline smiled, grateful for his understanding. 

“I must go before I am missed,” Emmeline said standing. She turned back to Blaere and bent down to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Blaere, for helping me,” she stated her voice rich with emotion. Then she turned and was gone.

Blaere sat for a moment in the peace of the garden, wondering if he had just made the worst decision of his life. But he would abide by it. His mind was already working on the problem of getting Emmeline and her unborn baby out of Rome as he went back to work.

SPQR**SPQR

For two days Blaere thought and observed everything as he did chores at the villa and on errands in Rome itself for his masters. He knew he had the answer.

After the two days were up, he went to the Speratus Villa to see Emmeline. They sat in the garden at the villa. There was no one else around. Using hand signals and drawing in the dirt, Blaere outlined his plan to Emmeline. Emmeline nodded as she listened to Blaere’s plan. It might work.

That night Blaere slipped out of the Ellisonus villa. The moon was full, bathing Rome in a silver light. It was a beautiful night, a typical warm summer night. He made his way silently to the Speratus Villa. Emmeline was waiting for him as arranged. She had a small bundle with her. Quietly, keeping to the shadows, they made their way to a warehouse. 

William Ellisonus was a merchant and Blaere knew he had cargo leaving on a wagon train early the next morning. He heard things during his duties at the villa. As William talked to customers and clients, so Blaere stored everything away for future use. He planned to get Emmeline smuggled onboard the wagon and when it department at dawn it would journey along the Appian Way to the port of Brindisi. Emmeline could slip away anywhere along the route or if she made it to Brindisi she could stowaway on a ship to anywhere. Blaere knew it wouldn’t be easy but Emmeline said she had family in the north if she could get to them she would be safe. 

There were some large barrels in the warehouse and Blaere and Emmeline were squatting behind them, waiting for a window of opportunity. The cargo was finally on the wagon and the workers were just waiting for the driver to turn up. Blaere knew it was now or never. 

Emmeline turned to Blaere to thank him when they were both started by a voice behind them.

“What have we here then?” he barked.

Blaere’s heart was thumping in his chest as he turned his head to see the cargo master behind them. 

“A couple of runaway slaves I bet.”

Blaere looked at Emmeline and then he barrelled into the cargo master, tackling him to the floor. Emmeline broke cover and ran as part of her still wanting to get onboard the wagon, not wanting to give up on her chance of freedom, but she knew the chance was lost. She didn’t want to leave Blaere grappling with the very large cargo master but she had her baby to consider. As she ran she glanced back, Blaere was still on the floor, his form a blur as he traded blows with the larger man. The fight was causing a commotion and men in the warehouse were now also moving towards the sounds of the disturbance. Then Emmeline collided with something. It stopped her forward momentum and she realised it was a man.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said trying to go round him but the disturbance in the warehouse by the wagon was growing in volume. Emmeline knew the man would know that it was unusual for a woman to be alone in a warehouse at this time of night.

“I don’t think so,” he replied grabbing Emmeline’s arm. His grip was painful as she tried to break free, but his grip was also vice-like, and she found herself being dragged back towards Blaere.

Blaere was lying on the warehouse floor dazed and hardly moving. Emmeline was beside herself with worry.

“What have you done to him!” she pleaded.

“He’s alright, just stunned,” the man who had fought Blaere said. 

Blaere started to come round, his head moving to the side as his eyes blinked open. He saw Emmeline being held by a man and that there were now five men surrounding them. 

“So who are you?” the man holding Emmeline asked.

Emmeline remained silent and Blaere glanced at his friend unsure now what to do. All he could think of was that Master James was going to know and be very angry and Blaere wasn’t sure what he would do then.

“I asked you a question,” the cargo master shouted and kicked Blaere in the ribs for emphasis. 

“He can’t speak,” Emmeline explained quickly so they would stop beating her friend when he didn’t answer them.

“One of the Ellisonus’ slaves can’t speak,” the man holding Emmeline said.

Blaere’s world fell apart. They knew. They knew who he was. He lay back on the cold stone floor and closed his eyes, wishing for unconsciousness to consume him again. The darkness would be welcome from the reality of his situation.

“That’s not going to go down too well. And who do you belong to pretty lady?” the man asked Emmeline. She remained silent at first. “We will find out,” he added firmly.

“Felix Speratus, sir,” she replied looking at her feet but holding her stomach protectively. It was all over. 

“Okay, Pansa and Lander you take these two to gaol and Galyn you go summon the Ellisonus’ and tell him we have his runaway slave. I’ll go tell Speratus.”

Emmeline and Blaere exchanged glances knowing how much trouble they were both in. Emmeline’s gaze was nothing but contrite, she had gotten Blaere into this, but Blaere wasn’t angry at his friend. He was angry at himself for getting them caught. 

SPQR**SPQR

Blaere heard the door open but didn’t open his eyes. He was lying on his front on a hard cot in a small cell. He didn’t want to face his master. He knew that William would be gloating having been proven right that Blaere would run. He didn’t want to face James’ disappointment. The cell was dark and cold but he was feeling even colder inside, right down to his soul.

“He’s inside there,” he heard the gaoler say and the inner door to the cells opened. 

Blaere didn’t open his eyes; he wanted a few more moments before he faced up to what he had done. He had said yes to Emmeline to help her, it was on his head. He didn’t regret helping Emmeline to have a better life. What he would regret would be the repercussions of getting caught. There was a long silence. 

“Blaere,” a voice said in the darkness.

Blaere started. It was James’ voice. Blaere’s eyes opened with shock, he had been expecting Master William to have been summoned. Blaere’s blue eyes turned to see James standing on the other side of the portcullis bars. Even from the distance and the lambent light he could plainly see James’ disappointment and anger.

“I don’t know what to say,” James responded looking through the bars at his new servant. “I really didn’t think you would try to run away.” There was disappointment in his tone and that hurt Blaere more than he thought possible. 

Blaere couldn’t keep looking at his master, so he averted his eyes. He looked at the floor then the wall, anywhere other than at his master, as his face flushed with embarrassment and shame.

“Master Ellisonus, please don’t blame Blaere,” it was Emmeline’s pleading voice from the next cell. “I asked him to help me escape.”

“But Blaere still agreed to help you when he should have known better.”

“No, no you don’t understand,” her voice was fervent with emotion; she had to explain for Blaere’s sake what had happened. “Blaere wasn’t trying to escape. He was trying to help me escape. He wasn’t leaving, he was staying.”

“Is this true, Blaere?” James asked. Blaere didn’t respond he looked despondently down at the floor. “I asked you a question, slave!” There was no mistaking James’ tone that he required an immediate answer. 

Blaere instantly drew himself up taller and looking up he nodded.

“Why did you want to run away, Emmeline? I thought Speratus was a good master.”

“He is,” she replied. “It’s just...I...well I...” but there were tears in her eyes. 

“You do know the penalty that some owners inflict on their slaves that try to run away,” he told the two slaves. He gazed at them both before continuing. “Emmeline, I need to know why you did what you did. If I have a good enough explanation, I will talk to Speratus on your behalf.”

“You would,” Emmeline replied a little surprised by the slave master’s response.

Blaere glanced between his friend and his master as they spoke. Blaere knew that if his master said he would speak on Emmeline’s behalf he would because he was an honourable man.

“I’m going to have a baby,” she admitted. “I didn’t want my baby taken away from me and I wanted him or her to be free.”

“I see,” James replied finally understanding, but not condoning, her actions. ”It’s not your fault that you were born into the circumstances you were but, Emmeline, you are a slave.” Emmeline nodded and looked away tears welling in her eyes. James sighed “I will see what I can do.”

Emmeline nodded as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Blaere, were you taken from your mother?” James asked on a whim.

Blaere nodded and James could see the pain on his slave’s face, and it helped him to understand a little better why his slave had tried to help the young girl. But he also knew he had to lead by example. 

“You will still be punished, Blaere.”

“Please, Master James, don’t punish him. He was only trying to help me. Punish me if you have to but not Blaere.”

“You are another man’s property I cannot punish you.”

“Gaoler,” James called “Release the prisoners.”

“I can’t, Master Ellisonus,” the gaoler replied.

“Why not?”

“It’s the rules.”

“Hang the rules, man. I want my slave released to me immediately!!”

“I’m sorry you can’t until morning until there are procedures. It’s the rules.”

James scowled at the man. He was too tired to argue with bureaucracy that night. Perhaps a night in the cells would give the two slaves something to think about.

“Very well, I will be back first thing in the morning to sort this mess out.”

With that James abruptly turned and left the cells. He didn’t stop and was soon on his horse and riding back to the Villa.

After he had gone, Emmeline looked over at Blaere. She knew then she should never have included him in her plan. The look on his face was devastating. 

“I’m sorry, Blaere,” she sobbed. 

Blaere looked over at her. He wanted to reassure her and let her know that he wasn’t angry at her and that it would be alright; but he wasn’t sure that anything would ever be right again.

SPQR**SPQR

CAPITULUS IV

James returned to the gaol first thing the next morning. He had had a sleepless night after returning to the villa. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Emmeline had said that Blaere had not been trying to escape, but was only helping his friend escape. That in itself was inexcusable helping a fellow slave escape and that merited punishing severely. But as James had tossed and turned in his bed he had placed himself in his slave’s position. It was not something he had contemplated before. Slaves were slaves, they were there to do their bidding and that was the end of it; but there was something about Blaere that made him question whether he should be a slave at all. There was something intelligent and beguiling about him, and being a slave was holding him back. James had wrestled with that notion the rest of the night, until he had come to his senses again before dawn.

He couldn’t change the world or the order of things. Blaere was a slave. Blaere was his slave and he would learn his place and that was final.

As James had ridden to the gaol he had contemplated what punishment befitted the crime. What discipline could he instil that Blaere had not suffered before? The slave was a troublesome one and no mistake. James was pretty sure he had suffered every form of punishment imaginable. He also knew it would not be in the form of physical punishment and he was still deciding as he drew his horse to a stop outside the gaol.

It was a beautiful morning and promised to be another hot day. There wasn’t a cloud in the azure sky as he dismounted and moved to reclaim his slave. 

James opened the door and went inside the goal building. There was a different guard on duty and he was sitting behind a small table, his breakfast haphazardly scattered over the surface.

“I’ve come for my slave,” James intoned. 

The wily man regarded James with a hostile look on his face.

“What slave?”

“He was brought in last night with a young girl,” James replied.

“No male slave in the gaol,” he intoned looking at his breakfast longingly and then checking the scroll on the table. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, man,” James insisted. “I left him here last night.”

James looked at the door into the cells. He could hear Emmeline’s voice behind the door calling frantically to him but he could only detect one heartbeat.

“Master James….Master James….Master James….,” she cried.

James went to the door. The guard stood and protested as James barged into the cells area beyond.

The cell Blaere had been in the night before was empty.

“Where’s Blaere?” he asked Emmeline.

“Oh, Master James, some men came last night for him. They dragged Blaere out of the cell and took him,” Emmeline sobbed.

“Who were these men? Did you recognise them?”

“No,” she replied tears streaking down her face. “But they were big men and they weren’t very gentle with Blaere. You’ve got to help him, Master James.”

“I will, Emmeline, don’t worry. I’ll find him.”

James turned on the hapless guard. 

“What do you know about my slave’s disappearance?”

“Nothing I swear. There was only the one prisoner when I got here this morning.”

James knew he was telling the truth. “Where does the night guard live?”

“Not far from here.”

James followed the man’s instructions and was soon hammering on the door of the night guard’s home. A woman came to the door but James was in no mood for pleasantries. He barged into the small room inside and could hear the sound of deep breathing from a man in a deep sleep. He barged into the small bedroom and woke the disgruntled man up. The guard soon divulged what he knew which wasn’t much. Two men had come into the gaol and had given him gold Aureus coins to release the prisoner to them. 

James was disgusted with the man. If it was a question of price he could have bought Blaere’s freedom the night before, instead of trying to do things the right way. James promised the man if any harm came to his slave that he would have his job. James made a mental note to take the matter further and make sure the man lost his job anyway.

James left wondering who would have taken his slave and why? Where was Blaere now? Rome was such a large city it would be impossible to search everywhere. He could have already been smuggled out of Rome and already be halfway to another country. It didn’t make sense. Blaere was hardly a valuable slave? He did good work but he was small and hardly strong, but also not having a voice either, hardly made him a prized acquisition. But obviously someone had valued him, valued him enough to steal him away in the middle of the night.

He made sure that Emmeline was returned to her master and spoke to Speratus about why his slave had tried to run away. Speratus was a fair man and he assured his slave that although he could not free her, her baby would not be taken away from her. Emmeline shed tears of gratitude both for her master and for Master James who had spoken up for her. She felt foolish in her actions. Her master could have beaten her or branded her for her actions but he had been nothing but considerate.

Emmeline was upset when she discovered that Blaere was still missing. She blamed herself for his loss and her selfishness at taking the importance of her unborn baby’s life above everyone’s safety, including Blaere’s. She just hoped that Blaere was found soon and found safe.

SPQR**SPQR

For the next two days James worked tirelessly to find his slave. Part of him was incensed that someone had dared take property that belonged to the Ellisonus family. Part of him was intrigued by the fact that someone wanted Blaere so badly. But another part of him found that he was deeply concerned for his new slave’s wellbeing. That startled him the most and he wasn’t sure why he was so anxious about him. If it had been any of their other slaves he would have been concerned yes, but probably more so because what belonged to the Ellisonus family had been stolen. No Roman had the right to take another man’s property.

Blaere was gone and he didn’t know where else to look, so he returned home in disillusion. James walked into his father’s study. William was poring over various scrolls. His father’s business empire was spread all over the Roman Empire, even as far afield as Hispania and Britannia. 

“Any news, son?”

James sat down wearily opposite his father.

“No, there’s no sign of Blaere anywhere.”

“Best forget him then. You can always buy a new slave,” he added coldly, as if Blaere was nothing more than a commodity like a sack of flour you could easily replace if it spoilt. His attention returned back to the scroll he was reading.

James was disgusted with his father’s uncaring attitude. Before Blaere has come into their service had he been so dispassionate and cold towards the wellbeing of their slaves as his father was? Were the slaves so disposable and expendable that if one was unable to work you simply went out and got another one? James started to question the very ethics of the way he lived. Blaere was a human being, like he was; he had just been born into a different world. But at the end of the day were they really so different? 

He felt a certain responsibility for his slave. Blaere had suffered so much in the past both physically and emotionally. His past owner had treated him badly. What could possibly be happening to him now? More suffering? More abuse? He didn’t want to think about it. 

Just then Telvus came in with some wine. He placed it on a low table and asked them if they both required a drink. James’ father indicated that he did require some but James just stared at the slave, almost as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“Master James,” Telvus said for the second time wondering if the master was unwell. “Would you like some wine?”

“No wine,” James replied, returning from his reveries enough to realise he was being addressed.

“Leave us,” William commanded.

Bowing Telvus left.

“Are you alright, James?” his father asked after the slave had left the room.

James nodded but his thoughts were in turmoil.

“I need to know what has happened to Blaere,” he said.

William could see that it meant a lot to his son. “I’ll see what I can do,” William stated. “Now you haven’t forgotten this afternoon have you”?

“This afternoon?” James replied trying to think what his father meant.

“The games,” he replied, but his son remained blank. “There are games at the Coliseum this afternoon.”

James had forgotten all about them. “I don’t feel like going,” his son replied.

“Nonsense,” William responded. “You’re taking this missing slave business way too seriously. An afternoon of gladiators and chariot racing will do you the world of good. Stephen’s going.”

James didn’t care about gladiators killing each other or slaves trying to beat other slaves on chariots. It always ended up with blood being spilt into the Coliseum’s floor with the audience baying for more and more blood to be spilt. He didn’t think he could stomach it this day.

“I don’t…” he began to say but his father cut him off.

“You’re going,” he said sharply. “Let’s have no more on the matter!”

James took that as his father’s final word. Without a word James left his father in his study to finish his business. And he resigned himself to an afternoon of bloodthirsty sport.

SPQR**SPQR

 

The Coliseum was as noisy and bloodthirsty as James had expected it to be. The arena was filled to the rafters with a baying and cheering crowd. James sat beside his father and brother who were just as vocal and disorderly as the rest of the excited crowd. They were watching a chariot race as the charioteers steered their horses round the course, trying to outrun and out manoeuvre their comrades. An unfortunate charioteer got upended and landed on the ground another chariot running over the top of him. The crowd just cheered all the louder at his misfortune. 

James looked round and observed the crowd. Part of him was hoping, no matter how unlikely that was, to see Blaere in that crowd. He could hear the sails of the awnings on the roof of the open aired arena rustling in the breeze. He sat watching the crowd and not the happenings in the arena. Thinking that there would have been a time when he would have been so caught up and revelled in the commotions on the arena floor himself. 

But not now, not anymore. He realised he had changed. It had all began when he had been in the Legion. He had seen enough bloodshed and death fighting for Rome. And then a young slave had entered his life. From the moment James had set eyes on the injured slave running for his life from an oppressive master, he knew that his life would never be the same again. Now none of this seemed important. For some people the games at the Coliseum were all they had in an otherwise dull and erstwhile life. James had to admit his life had been heading the same way. What had he done since he had gotten out of the Legion? Nothing. The family’s wealth enough to allow him to do exactly that: Letting his father do the work and not wanting to try to learn the family merchant business. He had used the excuse that he had been searching for a vocation but in reality he had become lazy and without direction.

James suddenly realised the chariot race was over and he had no idea who had won it. And he also realised he didn’t care. Slaves were clearing up the arena of bits of chariots and pieces of people by the looks of the debris being removed. The next performance was about to begin.

Slowly a group of sad looking slaves entered the arena from a side entrance. They were holding various pieces of equipment, sword and knives, and none of them looked like they knew how to use them.

Poor bastards James thought as he glanced at them. Lambs to the slaughter. These slaves had done wrong for whatever reason, or they were no longer needed by their masters and they were casting them off. Better to get rid of them now than to lose more money in the future on them.

Now they would face the gladiators. The Romans called it sport but it was nothing less than slaughter. The gladiators were at least trained fighters, those poor souls had probably been tending house the day before. The closest blade the slaves had probably ever held in their hands was a carving knife in a culina. Now they were expected to trade blows with a highly trained gladiator.

Could Rome get any more base or depraved than this show of horror?

James looked at the slaves absently and then looked closer when one of them caught his attention. It was too far to see the group of ten slaves closely but one of them looked familiar. He cursed wishing he was closer to the arena so he could see in more detail. But then suddenly his eyes obeyed him and he focused in on the figures. He was surprised and a little scared at first when his eyesight shifted and the huddle of slaves came into focus, but fear was soon forgotten as he realised who the figure he recognised was. 

It was Blaere. Blaere was standing in the arena amongst the group of slaves awaiting the arrival of the gladiators. 

SPQR**SPQR

CAPITULUS V

James couldn’t believe it. He turned to his father to tell him but there was a strange look on his father’s face, a cross between a sneer and insight. With horror James realised he knew, he knew that Blaere was going to be down there. That was why he had insisted on coming to the games. 

“You knew! Damn it, father, you knew where Blaere was all along!” he accused.

“Yes, I did, son. No slave of mine runs away without suffering the consequences. This will be a lesson to the other slaves. None of them will ever run after this.”

“Firstly, father, Blaere didn’t run away and secondly he’s my slave not yours.”

“I am still head of this family and I will discipline all the slaves that live and work in my house, however and whenever I deem necessary.” 

“Father, no, we must stop this before it’s too late,” James implored.

“It’s already too late, son.”

James looked at this father as if for the first time. Did he really know him? Had he ever really known him? James looked at his brother but he could see, although Stephen looked sympathetic, there was no way he would go against his father’s wishes. 

“The gladiators are about to come out. Sit and watch. Who knows the slave might put up a good fight.”

James was too stunned to say or do anything. He sat back in his seat, listening to the jeers of the crowd towards the slaves. They all loved the gladiators. They were slaves themselves and fought in an attempt to secure their own freedom. Freedom was a mighty motivator. If they lived long enough and killed enough they just might be granted it.

Eight gladiators strutted into the arena. They faced their emperor and recited their oath before fighting “We who are about to die salute you”. Then they were ready to fight and moved over to, and encircled, the huddle of slaves. James watched with trepidation wondering what he could do to help Blaere. But knowing and resigning himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do.

James couldn’t watch anymore. He got up to leave and moved to the exit, his back to the arena. But James stopped, he couldn’t desert Blaere now. How could he leave like a coward whilst Blaere was down there facing certain death? He couldn’t let him face it alone. His heart was hammering in his chest, his throat tight and his mouth dry. But he stopped and turned round to face Blaere and his fate.

He could see Blaere’s head turn towards him. It was as if Blaere knew he was there. Blaere had seen the movement and even from the distance he knew it was Master James, as no one looked or walked like that. James focused his eyes on his frightened slave. He looked so fragile and small in the arena, surrounded by the other frightened slaves; but yet there was a firm resolve to his demeanour that shouted that he would face his fate bravely and head on. He had no intention of running.

The gladiators hit their shields with their swords, preparing to advance and fight.

James looked at the gladiators they were mean, battle scared and hungry for blood. They were trained to fight and fight hard. James could only watch futilely as Blaere’s eyes turned from looking towards him and round to face his fate. 

James’ mind was screaming ‘No’ as the gladiators rushed to engage their adversaries.

Blaere knew he was going to die as the gladiators advanced on them. His fellow slaves were all shaking with fear, as he was; they were just ordinary servants not battle-hard warriors. Blaere wasn’t afraid to die, nor was he afraid of pain; as he had suffered enough of that in his short life already, to fear it. All Blaere hoped for was that he died quickly and cleanly.

Suddenly a gladiator was in front of him. A helmet masked his face, but he could see his eyes and his lips were held in a sneer. Blaere raised his sword half heartedly, the gladiator’s sword coming down on it in a powerful blow. Blaere almost lost hold of the weapon from that blow alone as the metal sword reverberated into his hand. 

“Fight slave!!” the gladiator shouted. “Fight for your life!!”

Blaere wasn’t sure why he was trying to encourage him though he knew the gladiators were slaves also. They were fighting for their lives as much as he was. Maybe if he put on a decent show with this gladiator it might help him win his freedom. His death might mean something then.

With that Blaere went on the offensive and charged the gladiator forcing him backwards. The gladiator shouted his delight as he was challenged.

They traded blows and Blaere felt the sting of the gladiator’s sword on his arm and the bite of it in his side. He felt the trickle of blood as it ran down his arm but he ignored it, he couldn’t afford the distraction. They were minor cuts and were inconsequential. He was fighting for his very life.

But Blaere soon found himself on the defensive with the superior fighting ability of the gladiator. Blaere staggered backwards, his hand reverberating with every clang of the gladiator’s sword on his own. He was on the last reserves of his strength and Blaere fell backwards to the floor. The gladiator had Blaere at his sword’s point and his mercy. The other battles were continuing until one by one the gladiator’s had the upper hand. Three of the slaves were dead and the rest were at sword point to the gladiators. Now they waited for the emperor to decide the slaves’ fate.

James watched the spectacle with a rage growing inside of him. It was wrong, very wrong. Finally his brain stopped thinking altogether and he just gazed at Blaere with his superior eyesight. He could see him lying on the sandy floor of the arena, his chest heaving from the physical effort he had just expounded. His eyes were glazed as he looked up at the gladiator to his fate. There wasn’t blame or hatred in his gaze for the man who had him at death’s door but understanding and even forgiveness.

The crowd waited as Emperor Marcellus Cassius Gallus raised his hand to give his thumbs up or thumbs down as to the fate of the slaves. Maybe they had fought well enough for the emperor that he would spare them, but it rarely happened. 

James didn’t look up at the emperor he was still looking at his slave lying supine and moments from death.

Something broke in James at that moment. He roared a mighty roar of anguish and distress. He began to run down the steps to the arena. The crowd around him heard his mighty bellow and they stopped cheering, wondering what was going on. They watched him charging towards the fence.

William and Stephen watched with dismay as James ran.

Two guards tried to stop James but he brushed them aside. Then he was vaulting into the arena and running towards Blaere. The gladiators were watching the emperor and didn’t know what was going on, but the cheers of the crowd suddenly changed. They turned to see a man running hell bent towards them. James picked up a fallen sword and with a howl of fury he engaged them. 

He was like a dervish and the gladiators didn’t stand a chance. James tore into them, hacking and slashing as he moved through them as he strove closer to his fallen slave. Soon all eight gladiators were either lying dead or dying in the sand. Their blood adding to the miasma of spilt gladiator blood already to have seeped endlessly into the Coliseum’s arena floor.

James was breathing hard, his face a mask of wrath and vengeance. He looked round and realised there were no more gladiators to fight. He looked at the blood soaked sword in his hand, its blade dripping with blood. Both his hands were coated in gore. He looked round and saw Blaere looking at him in awe and a little fear.

James dropped the sword and went to his slave. Blaere looked up at him, his blue eyes huge with fear, and his pupils shrunken to tiny pinpricks. Blaere was astonished at what his master had done and how vengeful he had been. He had never seen a man do what he had done before.

The crowd had become unnaturally quiet as it watched the scene unfold before them. It was so quiet a pin dropped would have seemed loud.

James bent down and gently picked Blaere up in his arms, mindful of his still healing back. He started to walk towards the exit but then there was a commotion as the emperor regained his composure and gave orders to his guards. 

The emperor was incensed that someone had dared interfere in his games but not only that they had killed his gladiators. His gladiators!! 

Holding his precious burden James had made it to an exit and went inside underneath the seating area, where the gladiators prepared themselves and where the slaves were kept beforehand. Then they were surrounded by the emperor’s guards. James didn’t want to surrender Blaere to the men but he had no choice. 

Blaere and James were separated. James struggled with his captors. He didn’t want them to hurt Blaere, he hadn’t fought an army of gladiators for these burly guards to hurt him. James lost sight of Blaere as he was taken to a Coliseum cell to await the emperor’s pleasure.

The cell was small and fetid. To James’ sensitive nose it was rank and he tried to breathe through his mouth and not his nose. Fusty straw littered with floor that smelled of urine and faeces. The guards had chained his arms to rings on the walls either side of his body, so he couldn’t move. James tried to prise the rings from the wall but they were anchored solidly as he expected them to be.

The games had continued but as soon as his son had disappeared underneath the arena with his slave in his arms, William and Stephen had left their seats and gone in search of James. They arrived after James and Blaere had been taken to cells. William spoke to the emperor and told him of James’ history, how he had served honourably in the Legion and then the history of the troubled slave. The emperor listened but he wasn’t impressed. He dismissed the two Ellisonus’ with a wave of his imperial hand. The guards ushered William and Stephen away from their Caesar.

It wasn’t long before the emperor made an appearance as he breezed into the cell, flanked by four guards. The man was slight, smaller than James expected. But his rage certainly precluded his stature. He walked over to James in the fetid straw and didn’t even seem to notice or care where he was putting his imperial feet.

“How dare you despoil my games!!” he shouted. “Killing all my gladiators. I won’t have it I tell you,” he raged. 

“My slave should not have been in your games,” James told the emperor. 

“You did all that over a mere slave.” The emperor shook his head unable to comprehend the reasoning. 

“Where is my slave?”

The emperor ignored him. “What is your name?”

“Jamesiscus Decimus Ellisonus.”

“Well, Jamesiscus Decimus Ellisonus I condemn you to death. You will be executed at dawn.”

With that he turned and moved from the room, his guards in tow. James watched the party leaving stunned. He had thought the emperor a tad mad, now knew it to be true. Least he had saved Blaere’s life. He only hoped he was safe and they didn’t plan to execute him when he was executed.

“Guard!! Guard!!” James shouted. A soldier’s head looked in through the small window in the door. “My slave what happened to him?”

But the guard ignored James.

James sank back, his head hanging. He could only hope that Blaere was alive and safe.

There was no escape.

James took a cleansing breath and waited for his fate.

SPQR**SPQR

Emperor Marcellus Cassius Gallus was escorted to another part of the Coliseum to another dark and dingy cell. The cell wasn’t any cleaner or less fetid than James’ cell. In this cell the prisoner wasn’t chained but he was curled up in a corner, a ball of misery and despair.

“Kneel before your emperor!!” a guard shouted.

Shaking from cold and fear Blaere’s eyes lifted on hearing the command. He saw the four guards with the man robed in a fine gold finished toga in the centre. Blaere thought it was funny that the emperor needed four guards to visit him.

Blaere moved slowly forward and knelt.

“You are the slave your master killed all my gladiators for. I have never known such a thing before. Tribune have you heard of such a thing before?”

“No, Caesar,” the guard replied.

“However, I am not a despotic ruler and I can show mercy. Therefore slave you are free to go back to your master.” Blaere’s eyebrows raised at that. Had they set Master James free? “I don’t mean your master himself but your master’s family. Perhaps they will have some punishment for you. I’m done with you.”

The emperor turned to leave the cell, then stopped and turned back to Blaere for a moment. “Slave, if you’re wondering about your master Jamesiscus Decimus Ellisonus’ fate. I’ve sentenced him to death.”

Without further ado the guards and the emperor filed out of the dank cell. Blaere didn’t move at first, he was too numb with shock. They were going to execute his master because he had saved his life and yet they were going to let him live. Deep despair washed over Blaere for his master. He didn’t get up from his knees instead he lowered his head and wept.

SPQR**SPQR

Was it dawn already? He heard the guards coming for him. They entered the cell silently and unchained him. They bound his hands behind his back and then escorted him outside. James’ arms ached from being chained out to his side all night. Pins and needles tingled along both arms but he knew he soon wouldn’t be feeling anything. So he embraced the pain. 

The guards loaded him onto a cart pulled by two horses. The quiet was palpable. Rome was still asleep; hardly anything was stirring as the cart trundled slowly out of the city. James tried the bonds but they had been bound tightly. He was on his knees in the middle of the cart as the four guards sat passively watching him from each corner. 

They took him out of Rome along the Appian Way. James glanced about as they journeyed. There were numerous crosses on either side of the road. James’ eyes regarded Rome’s enemies hanging on those crosses, in various stages of life and death, with a chill down his spine. He concluded the dead ones were the lucky ones. 

Then the cart stopped abruptly. The guards escorted him over to an empty cross that was lying on the ground ominously ready for him. Without preamble they laid James down on the cross. James studied the guards’ faces as the men went about doing their emperor’s bidding. James didn’t hate them; they were only following orders as he would have done once. They had treated him with dignity in their dispassionate way. 

They positioned him on the cross. From his supine position James glanced up at the sky, it was lightening every second. James watched fascinated as a small white cloud floating lazily along. It was going to be a lovely day. 

James heard the sound of metal being hit by metal and an incredible pain coursed through him, but he didn’t cry out. When the initial pain had subsided he realised that both his hands were throbbing steadily. He looked round though he knew instinctively what had happened. He knew how people were crucified. Metals nails stuck out of each of his palms. The guards raised the cross, James moaned as his hands took the weight of his body. His cross was put in place and the guards left him to hang there. James had wondered if they would break his legs, as they sometimes did to speed up death; but it seemed he would not even be spared that mercy.

The guards left, the cart trundling back to Rome. The sun peaked over the horizon and bathed James in an ethereal glow of orange. It was going to be a lovely day he thought macabrely in his misery.

James glanced at the sky wondering how long it would take for him to die. Two maybe three days. His mind wandered as it tried to shut out the agony of his hands. 

James prayed to Aesculapius (god of healing) and Juno Sospita (goddess of protection) but he didn’t pray for himself; he prayed for his brave slave Blaere, who had endured so much more pain in his short life than he would ever thought possible for one human being. 

Then that done James began the long wait for death to come for him.

SPQR**SPQR

Telvus arrived at the Coliseum to claim Blaere. The emperor had sent a messenger to the Ellisonus Villa for him to be collected like a piece of lost property. Telvus was shocked at the state of the slave. He looked tired, haggard, with dark circles under his bloodshot and swollen eyes. 

As they walked back to the Ellisonus Villa, Telvus glanced surreptitiously at his fellow slave.

“Master William isn’t pleased with you, Blaere,” he stated. 

Blaere didn’t look up or even acknowledge that he had heard Telvus speak.

“Master James was crucified this morning.” Telvus saw Blaere shiver at that and sink even further into himself. 

Blaere was thinking of James being crucified, alone and forgotten. The slave’s mind was racing. Where did the crucifixions take place? He desperately thought and then stopped walking. 

Telvus realised he was walking alone. “Come on, Blaere,” Telvus chastised. “You mustn’t keep the master waiting. Your punishment will be even worse if you are tardy and the mood the master is in I’ll probably be joining you. Come on, Blaere!!”

But Blaere wasn’t listening; he was thinking and trying to discern where he was standing in Rome. Without giving Telvus so much as a thought, Blaere started to run in the opposite diretion.

“Blaere!!” Telvus shouted. “Blaere!!! Come back here this minute!!”

But Blaere had turned round a street corner and was gone. Telvus just stood there for a moment wondering what to do. Master William was going to be so angry with both of them. He liked Blaere but there was nothing he could do for him. Slowly Telvus started to walk back to the villa. When the master heard about this Blaere would be lucky to escape with his life this time.

SPQR**SPQR

James slowly came to consciousness. It took him a few moments to realise where he was and why he hurt so much. His eyes were still closed but he could hear the birds singing sweetly nearby. The sun was shining and warming his skin. There was the sound of moaning nearby. His hands were throbbing in time with his loud heartbeat. His lips were parched and he realised he was thirsty. He moved his lips to try to get some moisture into his mouth. He tried to move but he soon realise he couldn’t, as any movement was pure agony. He longed for death and wished he could bring it upon himself.

He risked opening his eyes then and realised the horror of his situation. It came back to him in a wave of pain and desperation.

The heartbeat was still loud but he realised it wasn’t his own. He looked down and lying at the base of the cross was a huddled figure. 

“Blaere,” he croaked as much as his dry throat would allow him. Blaere looked up on hearing his master’s voice, tears on his face. “You alright?” Blaere nodded as he stood up, his face a mask of sorrow, his eyes showing his grief and torment. “I’m...glad,” he added a slight smile forming on his lips.

More tears fell from Blaere’s eyes, adding more rivulets on his already tear stained face.

“It’s okay, Blaere,” James whispered. 

Blaere’s shoulders sagged and he leant forward gently against James’ legs, so he wouldn’t jar him. He wanted to comfort his master and tell him by his touch what he couldn’t tell him in words. 

“You can’t.... stay here... you have....leave,” James’ voice was giving out, his voice scratchy and rough.

Blaere adamantly shook his head. James was cursing his slave’s devotion. Guards regularly patrolled the road, checking on the crosses. He wasn’t sure what they would do if they found Blaere there. James gazed down at the chestnut curls which tickled his legs and couldn’t be angry at his slave for showing such devotion to him. 

He was proud of Blaere at that moment, more proud of him than he had ever been of any other person. It made him want to live and be the best master he could possibly be to Blaere but he knew he was slowly dying. 

Where was his family at this moment? Probably disowning him even as he thought of it. He had always been a disappointment to William Titus Ellisonus. He didn’t care about his father at that moment. His slave had showed more loyalty to him than any person with the name Ellisonus ever had.

James knew he had lost some blood from his hands and judging from the position of the sun it was late afternoon. He already felt weak and tired. /You can’t fault us Romans,/ James thought ironically, /only we could use such a gruesome way for someone to die./

The edges of James’ vision began to grey again and he welcomed oblivion.

SPQR**SPQR

Thunder rolled loudly in the distance and lightning forked to the ground in quick flashes. James woke groggily wincing in pain as soon as he tried to move. The rain was falling steadily now and the rain ran down his body. He glanced down and saw Blaere still huddled under the cross. Night was coming now and it was already feeling cold. 

Though James was in agony, his hands were painful from where the nails had gone through his flesh, but also his arms and shoulders were a fire of agony from taking the weight of his body for so long. Part of him wanted to die to release his body from the agony it was enduring but also part of him wanted to live. So he opened his mouth and drank the rain to slake his thirst, knowing as he did so that it would prolong his suffering that little bit longer. 

He gazed down at the devoted form of his slave still huddled beneath his cross.

“Blaere,” he said, his voice a little stronger now that his parched throat didn’t feel so dry.

The curly hair moved slowly and then Blaere’s face upturned and James realised he had woken him. Blaere’s hair dripped water droplets and James’ gaze zeroed in on them. His senses were going haywire now and he had to fight for any modicum of control. 

Blaere stood and leaned his head onto his leg, James’ sensitised skin could feel every hair on his slave’s head. 

James could see the rain making the cuts on Blaere’s arm and side, gained from the fight in the arena, running with blood. At least the rain was cleaning the cuts out in a way. They needed to be tended to though.

“Go home… Blaere,” James managed to say.

Blaere shook his head, water droplets dispersing from the tight curls as he did so. Then Blaere pointed at James and the Roman knew what his slave meant. He was telling him that he was his home. /Oh, Blaere, what am I going to do with you/ he thought as he breathed deeply to dispel the feeling of nausea overwhelming his stomach. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten, not that he was hungry. Being crucified had the tendency to take away a person’s appetite. 

A noise to his left alerted him and he knew a guard was coming.

“Hide, Blaere,” James said and Blaere immediately hid in the ditch behind the cross. 

James watched as the Roman patrol walked by checking the crosses and making sure that all the victims were all secured on them and slowly dying as they should be and noting if any were finally dead. When the patrol had gone by, James told Blaere that it was safe again.

Blaere emerged looking up and down the darkening road. Then he went and stood in front of his master and looked up at him with two sorrow filled eyes. 

“When was the last time you ate?” James asked though the words cost him.

Blaere thought for a moment and shrugged.

“Go home, Blaere. Go look after yourself and then come back.”

James hoped that if Blaere went back to the Ellisonus Villa his father would make Blaere stay, he might punish him, but at least he would be safe, warm and dry. 

But Blaere shook his head and knelt back down on the ground and then huddled up again under the cross.

/Stubborn slave!/! James thought. 

James turned his head to watch the last vestiges of the sunset. The sky was mainly a blanket of grey cloud but there was a tinge of yellow on the horizon. As the colour leached out of the sunset, James wondered if it was the last sunset he would ever see. He wondered if he would wake up the next morning or would he slip away during the night. He didn’t think he was far enough gone yet to die this night. But his mind couldn’t help but linger on the thoughts of death. Strangely he wasn’t afraid for his own death, he had been a soldier, and he was no stranger to the prospect of death. He was scared for Blaere and what would become of him once he was dead. Would his father keep him or sell him again to a new master? That thought worried him the most, Blaere being sold to another master like Flavius Aurelias.

Tears crept from James’ eyes and silently slid down his cheek. They weren’t tears for himself but for his loyal and devoted slave, now lying huddled at his feet. Who had known nothing but pain and suffering his entire life. Who even now was thinking of someone else other than himself. 

James closed his eyes as darkness descended like a shroud on the lonely road. Lights began to spring up all over the city of Rome to their right. But here there was nothing but the moans of dying men in the encompassing darkness. James opened his eyes again to look at the stars as they appeared one by one. He watched the darkening dome above him for a while, trying to focus on something else and take his mind off his situation. He tried to steal a tiny amount of beauty from the darkness his life had become

Then finally James surrendered to the shadows.

SPQR**SPQR

Two figures enshrouded by darkness rode down the Appian Way out of Rome until they came to the crosses that lined both sides of the road. The rain was still falling steadily as they rode parallel to the crosses, discerning in the moonlight the faces of each poor soul on them, until they came to the one that they were searching for. They dismounted and leaving the horses nearby they moved solicitously up closer. They watched from the darkness at the devastating scene before them.

William and Stephen Ellisonus looked on grimly at the sight of their family member being crucified, naked except for a breechclout. William softened at the sight of the slave lying dejected beneath the cross. When Telvus has returned to the villa without Blaere and had told him how he had run away, William had known immediately where he would be running to. He had not sent other slaves to bring Blaere back; instead even his hardened heart had been touched by the slave’s loyalty to his son.

“You know what to do,” William stated simply to his son and Stephen nodded solemnly. “Goodbye, my brave son,” he whispered at the crucified figure. 

James stirred slightly; he had clearly heard his father’s voice and had seen figures clearly moving in the darkness. He wanted to call to them to tell them to take Blaere with them; but he didn’t have the strength to speak. He was beginning to think he was delirious from blood loss and exposure. James was relieved when the darkness claimed him again, so his delusions wouldn’t have free rein.

Stephen watched as his father moved slowly away, remounted his horse and rode away. A short time later Stephen Ellisonus was joined by the four men they had hired. He gave them the pre-arranged amount of money and then after giving them final instructions they moved quietly into the night. Guards were bribed and then the men moved to the cross bearing the elder Ellisonus son. Stephen continued to watch as one of the men grabbed the figure beneath the cross, who squirmed and fought valiantly, but he was exhausted and soon had to give in to the strong arms that held him. Blaere had been injured in the arena, he hadn’t drunk or eaten for a few days and he was cold and wet from the persistent rain.

Blaere could only watch as the three men took the cross down and released James’ hands. James groaned as his hands were jostled and the nails removed. The men immediately bandaged the hands to stop the bleeding. Blaere wanted to run to his master’s side but he was being held firmly. Instead he let the man pick him up and drape him over his shoulder. Then they were moving silently through the night.

Horses waited nearby. Blaere was silently told to mount the horse, which he did on wobbling legs. The man sat behind him in the saddle. Blaere glanced round and saw James was also helped into the saddle of a horse and a man sat behind him, supporting him. James was conscious though barely. Then they were riding swiftly through the night. 

Stephen Ellisonus watched the rescue of his brother from a nearby vantage point. He was satisfied when the men were riding swiftly away. He had wanted to speak to his brother for one last time but he knew there was no time. His heart was just glad that his brother was alive and safe. He mounted his own horse and turned back towards Rome to tell his father the first part of their plan had been a success.

Stephen glanced back once but the riders were already out of sight. The rain was still falling as he made his way back home to tell his father his son was free.

SPQR**SPQR

CAPITULUS VI

Blaere woke to a strange sensation of movement. He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. He was lying in a hammock in a small wooden room. The hammock was swaying softly. Blaere moved and realised how sore he felt. He was surprised to see that the injuries he had gained in the arena had been cleaned and dressed. He then noticed that James was lying in the hammock next to him. He immediately went to his side. 

James was asleep, his face pale and drawn. He was breathing steadily though it was shallow and sounded a little congested. Blaere saw that his master’s injuries had also been treated. Both his hands were heavily bandaged. Blaere touched James’ face and felt the heat there and noticed a sheen of perspiration on his brow. He had a fever, not surprising really considering what he had been through.

Blaere looked round him and saw a jug on top of a trunk to his left. There was also fruit, bread and cheese on a plate beside it. Blaere’s priority was the jug and he reached for it glad to see it was full of cool water and not wine. Blaere immediately started to tend to his master. He dipped a cloth into the water and wiped down his master’s face and chest, trying to temper the fever. 

James didn’t moan or move at Blaere’s ministrations. As he worked Blaere had time to ponder where they were. From the constant motions of the floor beneath him he concluded that they were definitely on a ship. Why had someone freed his master and why had they been taken to a ship?

Blaere didn’t have time to find out; his first concern was to get his master’s fever down.

Blaere was startled a while later when the door opened and a man came into the cabin. He took a reflexive step back but didn’t go too far as his first concern was for his unconscious master.

“Ah you’re awake,” the man said with a huge smile on his face. “How is Master Ellisonus?” he asked. 

Blaere didn’t do anything he just watched the man as he came towards them and then glanced down at James. He felt James’ forehead and then looked over at Blaere.

“Don’t worry, Blaere,” he stated and Blaere’s eyebrows shot up that he knew his name. “Yes I know who you both are. “My name is Captain Pietro and you are onboard the Danaus.” The captain could see that the young man looked puzzled. “I will explain everything to you.”

Blaere held up his arm which was bandaged pointing at the cloth that bound his wounds.

“Yes I tendered to your wounds and Master Ellisonus’ injuries. Are you wondering why?” the captain asked when he could see Blaere’s puzzled expression. “William Ellisonus paid for charter of this ship to take his son away from Rome. We are sailing to Britannia where you are to start a new life. James’ father also added you to the plans. He said you are devoted to his son.”

Blaere nodded at this as he looked at the unconscious form of his master.

“I won’t lie to you, Blaere, your master suffered greatly when he was crucified. He’s lost a lot of blood, he was dehydrated and exhausted and his hands are both badly infected. It’s going to be touch and go for a while.” Blaere looked crestfallen as he glanced at his master. “We will do everything that can be done for him. You must rest yourself.”

Blaere shook his head at this and reached for the cloth on James’ forehead to rinse in the cool water and reapply it. 

Blaere continued to diligently tend to his master. The slave was unaware of the passage of time as he stayed in the cabin. The captain appeared regularly to check on his patient and change his bandages and see that Blaere ate and drank himself. He checked the slave’s injuries and Blaere let the captain minister to him grudgingly. Blaere napped for short periods of time as he was exhausted and recovering from a terrible ordeal himself. 

James didn’t seem to be getting any better; in fact his fever seemed to be rising. His face was flushed and his skin hot to the touch. Blaere was fearful that James was losing his battle for life. He didn’t know what to do other than be at his master’s side and try to get the fever down.

SPQR**SPQR

“....die...do...die....as...n’t...die...master....” the words came in fragments but were steadily getting clearer, more insistent.

The voice was calling to him. It was a voice he didn’t recognise, but it had a sweet resonance and he couldn’t help but respond to it and obey it. James clawed his way towards that sweet voice and consciousness.

However consciousness wasn’t the most pleasant experience he had ever felt. Everything hurt. There wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t ache. Even his eyelashes were aching. His hands throbbed with a steady pain all of their own. He was aware that he was gently swaying and this was slowly lulling him back to sleep, but he knew he had to open his eyes. It took every ounce of energy he possessed but slowly his eyes fluttered open.

It took James a few seconds to focus on the room. Then he saw Blaere besides him, smiling but his face held concern, especially his cerulean blue eyes. There was fear in those eyes.

“You spoke,” James said but his voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper and rough. Smiling Blaere nodded and then raised a cup to James’ lips. James gratefully took some sips of cool water. It felt wonderful as it slipped down his sore throat. “Say something else.”

“What would you have me say, master?”

“You have a melodious voice, Blaere, I truly thought I would never ever hear it.”

“I had nothing I wanted to say before. But we can talk later; you must conserve your strength, master. Drink a few more sips of water.”

James did as he was told and then found himself slipping back to sleep holding on to the sound of Blaere’s voice. It was a like a lullaby as sleep gently claimed him.

Blaere watched his master falling back to sleep, but this time he wasn’t scared. James was just asleep. His fever had broken, the infection in his hands was subsiding and his injuries were healing. His master would live.

SPQR**SPQR

Over the next few days James continued to improve. During one of his visits the captain brought James a letter which had been written by his father before they had sailed. James broke the seal and began to read his father’s flowery script.

Dearest Son,

I sincerely hope you are well and recovering from your ordeal. 

I am ashamed of my actions over Blaere. When he was accused of running away with that slave girl Emmeline all I could think of was the disgrace his actions could instil on our family’s name. I decided to have him executed the day he disappeared when you were crucified. When I saw him lying there under your cross I realised just what a devoted servant he is. When the emperor condemned you to death, I knew I couldn’t let you die. So I paid Captain Pietro to take you away from Rome. Alas the emperor is not a forgiving man and I doubt you will ever be able to return. I am an old man so I doubt we will ever meet again. But begin your new life knowing how much I love you son and knowing I will think of you every day. 

The ship is sailing to Britannia which is on the edge of the Roman Empire. You should be able to start a new life there or from there travel to wherever you decide you want to settle down and live your life. Onboard is a chest with gold inside, and some of your possessions that I had time to pack for you, for you to begin your new life.

Goodbye, my son,

Your Devoted Father

James read the letter twice and then put it aside. There was a chest in the corner of the cabin which would contain the possessions that his father had mentioned in his letter. Not much he decided for a life’s worth. 

After a few more days James was finally able to get up. Blaere assisted him and helped him stand and walk up onto the deck to feel the sun and the wind on his face. Blaere made sure that his master had a blanket secured round him as he helped him walk up into the fresh air. The captain came over to them and told them that they were making good time. The ship’s other hands were busy tying down rigging and doing their jobs. 

Blaere heard the rustle of the sails in the wind. It wasn’t a cold wind and he was enjoying being on deck as much as his master, Blaere having spent every moment since he had been on board in the tiny cabin tending to his master. They went to the bow of the ship and sat on a raised hatch.

“Blaere,” James asked suddenly. “Why did you never speak before?” he asked suddenly.

Blaere looked away at some far off distant point composing himself before obeying and replying to his master’s question. 

“I was five when they took me away from my mama. I screamed at them to take me back to her. I screamed until my voice was gone. That was the last time I ever spoke until I started to speak to you. I barely remember what my mama looks like or what her voice sounds like. I was so young when they took me, but I remember she had beautiful red hair. How could they take me away from her? I was only five years old. That’s why I tried to help Emmeline to stop them taking her child away from her.”

“Blaere, she manipulated you into helping her.”

“Someone had to help her.”

“It didn’t have to be you.”

“I had to try. I would never have been able to live with myself if I hadn’t. If I’d have realised just how much it hurt you when you came to the gaol, when you thought I had tried to escape. I’m not sure I would have done it. I’m sorry, master, that I disappointed you so much.”

“No, Blaere, you taught me so much. You taught me how to be a better man and question our right as Romans to keep slaves. We are all skin and bone, the only difference is the life we are born into. Don’t stop talking now, Blaere, now that you have started.”

Blaere smiled. “Yes, master.”

“Blaere, back in Rome things started happening to me.”

“Like what things?” Blare asked concerned.

James was thoughtful for a moment. “I heard your heart beating, the night you had that terrible nightmare and you were hiding under your bed. Somehow your heart beat alerted me that you were troubled.”

“Oh,” Blaere replied still embarrassed about being found hiding under his bed. “Has it happened since?” 

“When I concentrate I can hear it beating.”

“Can you now?” Blaere asked and James nodded. “Wow.”

“There have been other times when I’ve seen or heard things that I shouldn’t have been able to.” 

Saying it out loud like that, it made James a little fearful as he wondered what was happening to him. It was also a little scary as he wondered if he might be changing into something else. But Blaere didn’t seem perturbed; in fact he seems positively excited at the prospect.

“We will have to explore this further. It sounds to me like your senses are heightened.”

Blaere‘s intelligent mind was already thinking on the problem. James’ eyebrows rose suspicion as he wondered what Blaere was thinking and that maybe he had opened Pandora’s Box.

They sat in a companionable silence for a bit longer until the air turned a bit cooler and Blaere fussed until James gave in and let his slave take him below deck.

SPQR**SPQR

The Danaus continued to sail making good time. The sailing was pretty smooth, bar the odd squally storm that rocked the ship, but the Danaus was a sturdy ship and she was equal to them. James continued to improve every day. Both James and Blaere’s injuries began to heal both physically but also emotionally. They had both suffered greatly in their old lives but now they could concentrate on the future.

“Land ho!” one of the crew suddenly shouted from the crow’s nest.

James and Blaere went to the bow and looked out. James’ eyes could easily see the white cliffs looming in the distance.

Britannia.

“Can you see anything?” Blaere asked.

“Yes,” James replied. “I see our new home.”

He looked down at Blaere and could see he was bubbling over with excitement. Rome had held no happiness for him, as for his slave, he wasn’t leaving anything behind him but unpleasant memories and hardship.

“Blaere, my family’s motto is ‘Cor aut Mors’ which means heart or death.”

“Well we’ve certainly faced death,” Blaere stated.

James nodded acknowledging that fact. “Blaere, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. The way you tried to help Emmeline keep her baby and the way you stayed with me when I had been crucified. You gave me the strength to fight for my life. I won’t ever forget that.”

“Master, you didn’t deserve the punishment. You saved me in the arena. I don’t think the emperor would have let any of us slaves live.”

“The emperor is unpredictable,” James replied. “Blaere, there’s something else I want to tell you,” James began earnestly thinking carefully about what he was about to say.

“Yes, master,” Blaere replied, a little concerned at his master’s tone. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Blaere, I’m fine but when we disembark in Britannia we will no longer be master and servant.”

“What?” Blaere was mortified. Was James going to cast him aside once they reached their new home? He didn’t want to be cast aside in a foreign land. “But, master, what have I done? Whatever it is, I will put it right.”

“No, Blaere, you don’t understand. It’s nothing like that,” and James smiled patiently at his servant.

“Blaere, we left Rome as master and servant but we will arrive in Britannia as equals. As brothers.”

“I don’t think...You are my master....I couldn’t’.”

“No, I am your ‘friend’ James. I am no longer your master. If you want to leave and go off on your own I will understand and I will give you money so you can start a new life. A free life. But I want you to know that I want you to stay with me as my friend and companion if you want to, Blaere.”

Blaere was speechless, he had been a slave his entire life. He had been born a slave; he didn’t know how to be free. Blaere didn’t know the name of the person he had been bought from all those years ago, aged five, or even where he had been born. He didn’t know who his father was or if he was alive or dead. He had been just a commodity his whole life. Now James was offering him a new life, a life he could never have dreamed of ever attaining. 

“Yes, master, I mean, James, I would like to stay with you and be your friend and companion.”

“Good,” James replied a huge smile on his face.

The two friends stood together at the rail as the white cliffs of Britannia loomed closer. Each was thinking with excitement and trepidation about starting their imminent new lives. 

They had left Rome as master and slave but were going to arrive in Britannia as brothers.

Exitus

February 2012

**Author's Note:**

> I have not kept it exactly accurate, historically speaking, and it should really be set within Antonius Pius' reign, but the emperor in my story is fictitious. I've also edited it myself and have tried to be accurate as possible but the odd mistake can sneak through - especially when you have a cat perched on your lap as you are trying to type.
> 
> I received a review on another site, where this story first appeared; saying that they couldn't finish reading the story because I crucified James and someone from the Legion would not be crucified but beheaded. I've seen Gladiator I remember Maximus asking for a clean death. However I don't pretend I don't use a certain amount of poetic licence on occasion. Also in my story James wasn't actually still in the Legion when he was crucified he was retired and not a serving soldier. And that's the direction I wanted my story to go in.


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